Cell Block D
by GallavichGirl
Summary: Mickey's been thrown into prison for two years. He and Ian broke up a while back and since his incarceration Mickey's made some enemies. How will the Milkovich boy survive? especially when he is asked to share his cell with someone he didn't expect to see again. Rated M for mature audiences. Contains explicit language, content of a sexual nature and violence. Please be warned.
1. Chapter 1

**Quick notes: **

**I really hope you enjoy this story guys, please review if you can, and if you have any ideas you want me to expand on I would love that. I accept prompts too! I am planning on continuing this so I hope you're ready to come along on the ride! I have tried my hardest to keep everyone, (especially Mickey) in character. Also, my apologies, I'm not too good at writing smut. Please enjoy and let me know what you think! **

It didn't take long for Mickey to realise that prison was a hell of a lot different from juvie. The guys in here weren't dabblers in petty crimes like shoplifting or vandalism. They were hardcore. There were rapists, murderers and prime time drug dealers, and that was just in D block. Still, being a Milkovich he used his fists to talk and that was proving a worthwhile skill for once in his life. Mickey knew that someone up there must hate him because when families were dished out he got properly screwed. He was doing okay and defending his corner and to be honest, he didn't really care that much if that got him taken out eventually. He didn't have a cellmate, and he was happy about that, he didn't need some dickhead winding him up even more than he managed to do himself. Although the lack of company left him with nothing but his own thoughts and that wasn't reassuring either.

He and Gallagher had finished nearly six months ago now. Not that Mickey was fucking counting. He still didn't even know how it had happened. Sure, they'd had an argument because of that asshole who was leering at Ian like he wanted to take him home and screw his brains out despite the fact Mickey was glaring at him and creatively imagining all the ways he could rip out his eyeballs out so he could never stare at what was his again. Ian usually put up with Mickey's fiery jealousy but this time he flipped when he'd decked the guy so hard he knocked him spark out. Ian had hauled him out of the bar with such strength even Mickey couldn't stop him. Ian had looked at him with such disappointment that Mickey felt his stomach turn, he couldn't stand what he saw reflecting back in Ian's eyes but he shook that feeling out of him and had seethed at Ian instead.

'_I can't do this anymore Mickey. After all this time, you still can't fucking grow up. You knew who that guy was, you knew how it important it was for me to get on with him so I could get that fucking job. To save some money, for us. For me and you so we could try and get a place of our own. And you've fucked it up, as usual cause you can't control your fucking temper.' The volume of Ian's rant got louder and louder and Mickey could see the fire in his eyes. _

'_Fuck you' Mickey spat back. 'I would rather be out on the fucking streets before I let that guy practically undress you with his eyes. I ain't gonna watch that shit.' _

'_Sometimes I think you don't give a shit about us, you just wanna stay here forever in the South Side and pretend you're a bad ass to make you feel a bit fucking better about the fact you're fucking me.' Ian replied, his tone full of venom, wanting to hit Mickey right where it hurt for just jeopardising the best chance they'd had at doing something with their lives. _

'_Don't even fucking go there Gallagher.' snarled Mickey. _

'_Why what you gonna do? Smash my face in again? Go on. Do it. Didn't make you feel better last time did it?' the redheads eyes challenged him, and his words were pushing him. Mickey's fists were twitching, desperate to connect with Ian's face and wipe that smug look off of it, feel his skull crack underneath his knuckles and release the fury that was bubbling inside him. It took every ounce of restraint he had, but he wouldn't do that to Ian again, he wouldn't carry around that guilt and emptiness again. They knew all too well about pain, and they should be the last two people to be inflicting it upon each other. _

_Mickey shook with the unreleased rage, but no many years of fighting prepared him for what Ian said next. _

'_Actually, you know what, fucking forget it. I'm so done with this, I want fucking more than this. We're done Mickey. For good this time.' Ian said, so full of determination that for the first time, he believed it. Fear filled Mickey's body and he stared as Ian looked back like every ounce of feeling he'd ever had for him had evaporated in that very moment. But fear wasn't an emotion that Mickey accepted so he forced himself to swallow as he spat out four words that he'd never meant less in his life. _

'_Fine, see if I care.' _

Even though Mickey had known in that moment that Ian meant it, he would never have believed that Gallagher would stick to his word. But he did. He wouldn't pick up Mickey's calls, he would ignore him if they crossed paths and ultimately acted like he couldn't see him at all, like he wasn't even there. That hurt Mickey way more that he'd ever care to admit, Ian was the one person that not only saw him, but saw through the front Mickey put up to protect himself and found the good in him. Now that was gone, what did he have?

That was a question Mickey didn't really want to ponder over and slowly but surely, over the next few months he had completely gone off the rails. He had been drinking from the second he woke up to the second he passed out, he'd been taking the coke he'd got his hands on instead of selling it and destroying everything that reminded him of Ian. Why? Because he didn't give a fuck, he'd told himself that so many times he was even starting to believe it. Fuck Gallagher, fuck his red hair, and fuck his hands on his body. Mickey was done with him. He had realised that he'd been turned into a fucking pussy, got in too deep with the guy who was meant to be just a casual screw. He would get back to looking out for number one.

The night that had got Mickey thrown into jail for at least 2 years, he'd been at the Kash and Grab, stealing a couple bottles of vodka to take the edge off for the night. When he had walked out only paying for the pack of smokes he was carrying he had walked straight into a sight he had never wanted to see. He could see Gallagher being pressed up against a brick wall, limbs were intertwining and they were kissing. Kissing was not something Ian and Mickey did. They had only kissed three times in all the time they'd been fucking. It was too intimate for Mickey, it made him vulnerable, it put him dangerously on the edge, and he couldn't handle feelings like that. He'd never had to. But seeing Ian's mouth pressed against this dickhead's, watching their lips move together and he was sure he saw Gallagher slip his tongue inside and he felt it. He felt the fury rise up in him quicker than he'd ever felt before and he felt the rage break him badly as he stormed over to them. The second he reached them he grabbed hold of the guy who had Ian's hands in his hair and tore them apart and threw the dead man walking against the wall with such force he didn't even know what was happening. It took Ian what felt like a year to react.

'What the fuck Mickey? Stop!' Ian rushed to try and haul Mickey off of the guy he'd pulled so easily at Fairytale. But Mickey was blinded by his anger and he threw Ian off him like a rag doll as he landed more and more punches. His own knuckles had started bleeding but he didn't care. He could feel everything breaking in the guy below him, he saw the teeth that were knocked out, his jaw go slack, his nose break and his eyes glaze as he gave up trying to fight back. There was blood everywhere and Mickey relished it, he wanted to drain this guy of every ounce of hope as every hit landed harder than the first. He could hear Ian shouting but he couldn't hear clearly enough. He could only see red as his primal side took over, protecting what was his.

The next thing Mickey knew he was in the back of a cop car with his hands cuffed, covered in blood, shaking from his wrath. It didn't take long for him to wind up here, in prison facing a two year stretch, now with no control whatsoever over who Ian fucked. But he didn't care, he knew he'd do it all again. He was only pissed that he hadn't managed to finish him off, he'd left the bastard in a coma apparently. Mickey knew it was probably for the best he was put away, it's not like anyone would fucking miss him.


	2. Chapter 2

Mickey's eyes cracked open when he heard the guards bang on the bars of his cell telling his block that it was time for showers. He hadn't got a lot of sleep, he'd tossed and turned reliving his last altercation with Gallagher and when he had drifted off he'd found himself dreaming of Ian's hands working him open, readying him for what was probably going to be mind blowing sex. When he'd jolted awake his dick was still hard so then he'd had to take care of that before lazily drifted back to sleep. Not that he was satisfied mind, nothing else really did satisfy him, but he was in jail, he had to work with what he could get.

Mickey stretched his whole body out as he adjusted to another day stuck in the same four walls, he heard a few of his bones crack back into place and feeling like he could finally move, fumbled out of bed and headed for the showers.

'Milkovich!' and Mickey spun round on instinct primed to attack only to find one of the guards, (he thinks his name is Bradley) looking for his attention. He's a stocky guy and Mickey doesn't mind him so much, at least he doesn't look at Mickey like he's the scum of the universe like some of the other guards. He is and he knows it, but it's still the principle. Not that Mickey had many of those either, but what the fuck ever.

'Yeah, what?' Mickey snapped back, full of his usual angry attitude.

'Just a heads up, got a new inmate coming in today, he's gonna be sharing with you.' replied Bradley, his eyes seeking for Milkovich not to kick off at this new information.

'Nah what the fuck man, I don't wanna share with anyone.' Mickey argued, pissed off at this revelation, he didn't want to be sharing his space with some other fucker.

'Tough shit Milkovich, he's about your age, never been convicted before, I doubt he'll cause you any trouble, alright?' and Mickey could tell by his tone that this wasn't the day to test Bradley, so as he weighed up the pros and cons in his head he thought fuck it. If this kid wasn't already a convict then at least he wouldn't try and take any of Mickey's authority away from him. Hey if he was attractive enough Mickey might even fuck him and maybe if he was lucky enough he'd make him his bitch. It had to be better than jerking off to fucking memories every night.

'Fine man, whatever, just make sure you tell him not to fuck with me.' and Mickey carried on towards the showers contemplating having to share his shithole cell with someone else.

Shower time at the prison was a tense affair. Obviously Mickey knew about the standard rules, don't drop the soap etc. No one in this place knew about him yet, knew he was the way he was. He certainly wasn't planning on fucking telling anyone. He didn't trust anyone in here. So as he walked into the showers he slipped the razorblade he kept in his trainer under his tongue and shut his mouth to keep it in place. He took the rest of his clothes off and walked in with rest of his corridor. He chose a shower head that was at the end of the shower room and turned the water on, ready to mind his own fucking business. The warm water felt so good shattering against his skin. He washed the dirt out of his hair facing away from everyone else in the room, eyes closed focusing on the beat of the water against him. Suddenly though he felt a presence next to him and his eyes shot open, beads of water falling off his dark lashes.

Next to him was the guy everyone called Double C. Presumably for his notorious reputation for dealing crack cocaine even though he'd been convicted of a double homicide .He was one of the most dangerous guys in there and the majority of the inmates did what he said. He was a ring leader, and his reputation earned him power. He was blonde, with dark eyes, maybe a couple of years older than Mickey. His arms where covered in tattoos and his frame was toned but slim. Mickey might have had more power than him in a one on one, but Mickey knew that Double C had way more back up on his side than he did. He was leaned up against the wet white tiles, watching Mickey with a smirk on his face. Mickey already knew that this was unsafe territory.

'What d'you want Double C?' he asked, with a touch of a threatening undertone. Double C's eyes became smaller as his smirk turned into an eerie smile that stretched across his whole face.

'Calm down sugar, I'm just enjoying the view' with that he glanced down at Mickey's dick. Mickey felt his temper flare along with feeling mortified at being called sugar, no one had ever managed to try and take his masculinity away and live before.

'Why don't you take your fucking eyes off me before I do something I regret.' Mickey didn't care, he really didn't. He had the blade in his mouth if he needed to use it, the steel weapon reassuring under his tongue. He wasn't going to let someone talk to him like that. No fucking way.

'Ooh, you'll need to learn to control that temper honey. It's not how I like my men.' Double C's voice replied silkily, but Mickey could see the threat in his eyes.

'That's alright then, considering that I ain't yours and it's staying that way.' Mickey snarled.

'That's what you think.' Double C stated simply, and with that he drew a hand up and slid it down Mickey's body slowly, from his collarbone to his hipbone.

Mickey wanted to tear his head off, he wanted to move his body away from him, but instead he watched as he allowed Double C to touch him. He shifted the blade from under his tongue so it lay on top of it, the cold metal sharp against the soft flesh. When his hand stilled he looked the fucker directly in the eye and slowly opened his mouth revealing the small but dangerous weapon concealed there. Double C's eyes flashed to the glinting steel and his expression changed to one of vehemence as he moved his fingertips off Mickey's body. The other guys in the shower room were pretending not to notice the tense altercation but they could both feel the eyes on them. Everyone was prepared for what could break out here.

'We aren't done here Milkovich, remember that.' Double C stated full of promise and Mickey knew it, as he walked to his shower and continued as though nothing had happened. Mickey could practically feel the room breath as the anticipation of a fight seeped from the room. He hoped that Double C did mean it, he'd kill the bastard the next chance he got, and he flexed his knuckles that were tainted with his unprofessional tattoos and focused on calming down the rage that he would save for the next time he ran into him.

Mickey didn't run into any more trouble that day, lunch was relatively calm. He sat next to Jack, his best ally in this place and ate the shit excuse for food while making meaningless conversation. Jack was in his late thirties, and was married with two young brats. He'd got fifteen years for armed robbery when he'd tried to rob a bank because he couldn't afford to pay the bills. Mickey didn't know much about politics, but he knew this country was fucked up.

'Everyone's talking about you flashing a razorblade at Double C earlier in the showers. Nice work mate.' Jack said, clearly impressed.

'Yeah well, wasn't just gonna let the fucker talk to me like I'm some bitch.' Mickey answered.

'To be fair, even though I wouldn't be interested either, he's not the worse guy to have on your side.' Jack said laughing at the thought.

'So what you saying? Let him fuck me so he can protect me or some shit? No fucking thanks, I can look after myself.' Mickey challenged in return as he slurped from his pot of Jell-O. One of the saving graces of this shithole.

'I'm sure you can Milkovich, just watch yourself yeah. I know he doesn't seem like much of a threat, but he's a dangerous guy, trust me.' Jack warned.

'I can look after myself.' Mickey repeated and he got up, leaving his tray on the table and headed back to his cell. He wasn't a man of many words, quite a few threats though and he knew that if Double C was going to try and take him out he would put up one hell of a fight. He turned the bend to his corridor but when he got to his cell he stood still.

Frozen where he was, he was staring at his new cellmate. His whole world came crashing down. He forgot about Double C's threat and Jack's warning and just stared. He was sharing a cell, with none other than Ian Fucking Gallagher.


	3. Chapter 3

Mickey's world was stuck in time. He wasn't even sure if he was breathing. He drank in the sight in front of him. Ian was decked out in the standard issue orange uniform which clashed badly with his red hair. His hazel eyes stared back at him. His shit was sprawled out on the top bunk and Mickey was glad he hadn't tried to take his bed. It took Gallagher talking to snap him out of his own personal freeze frame.

'Mickey?! What the fuck are you doing here?'

It didn't take much to spring Mickey back to life then. He jumped instantly on the defensive.

'What d'you fucking mean? This is my cell, I should be asking you that question!'

'Me and you, fucking sharing?' No fucking way.' Ian retaliated and Mickey was hurt somewhere deep inside him that the idea of sharing a cell with him pissed Ian off.

'Well I'm not exactly fucking happy about it.' Mickey snapped back just as harshly. 'What have you done to get yourself locked up?'

'None of your fucking business.' Ian answered. 'Me and you?' he said again and Mickey wanted to point out that that was fucking obvious but he bit his tongue.

'Yeah me and fucking you.' Mickey said and he didn't think either of them could disregard the irony of that.

'Just leave me alone Mickey alright, I might have to share a cell with you but that doesn't mean shit.' Ian's tone was decided and as he jumped up onto the top bunk Mickey couldn't help but notice that he was still an agile little prick and he also couldn't help but wonder whether the muscles in Ian's back still looked just as attractive as they always had.

By the time lights out was called both Mickey and Ian were in their bunks and not another word had been said and even though he wasn't a man of words Mickey needed the silence to be broken. You could cut the tension with a knife. He knew that Ian wasn't asleep, he wasn't doing that soft snoring thing he always did.

'How long you in here for?' Ian asked quietly and the break in silence made Mickey want to jump, but obviously he didn't because he wasn't a pussy.

'Two years.' He answered truthfully, because he didn't see the point in lying. 'You?'

'Eighteen months.' Came the empty reply. There was something in Ian's voice that Mickey didn't recognise. A brokenness that he didn't associate with Ian. It sort of reminded him of when they had first discovered that Ian was bipolar. Mickey had never been more frightened or confused in his life. Luckily though the doctor they got him to put him on some meds that helped calm his moods and despite a few setbacks, Ian did pretty well after that. Mickey hoped Ian was still taking them. Before he could reply though, Ian asked another question.

'Why does it always end back with you and me?'

Now that wasn't a bread and butter question and Mickey didn't know the answer. He knew it was true, but he didn't know why. Every time they were broken apart, something pulled them back together. Mickey didn't believe any of that religious bullshit and he definitely didn't believe in destiny or fate. He knew that shit was just for people who were desperate to believe that everything happened for a reason. Knowing that though, disallowed pretty much every reply Mickey could think of. So finally he just settled for.

'Cause that's the way it's always fucking been.'

Ian didn't reply after that, so Mickey asked what he really wanted to know.

'You gonna tell me why you're in here yet or what?'

Still no answer, and he didn't get one for the rest of that night.

When he stirred the following morning, Mickey felt like shit. Yet another night where sleep hadn't come in enough abundance. As usual though, he practically fell out of bed and got up to brush his teeth. That was when he noticed that Ian wasn't stirring. Concern flashed through him as old memories had taught him what it meant when Ian didn't move from his bed. The clashing bars of jail cells was enough to wake anyone.

'Ian?'

Nothing.

'Ian!' he said more aggressively this time.

Still nothing.

Fuck. Mickey jumped up the ladder to the top bunk. Ian was facing the wall and Mickey couldn't tell if he was awake or not. He grabbed the redhead's shoulder and shook him, hard.

'Ian, fucking wake up man!'

Then just as quickly as he'd spoken Ian's arm flew out and grabbed the hand that was shaking his shoulder.

'What the fuck Mick?' Ian asked, his voice husky from sleep and memories of Ian using a similar rough tone to whisper in his ear at Mandy's twentieth birthday party that he thought it was time they went to bed hit him with full force. As quickly as he could though he shook the flashback from his head and jumped off the ladder, turning away so Ian couldn't see the heat the flooded to his face. Mickey didn't know if he even could blush, but if he could then he was now.

'Erm, sorry man, couldn't wake you, just checking you weren't dead or some shit.'

'Shame then, cause I'm still here.'

Ian's sarcastic fucking reply pissed Mickey off and he made a mental note to never show the redheaded prick that he gave a shit ever again.

'Yeah well, I preferred my cell without you in it anyway.' Mickey coldly replied and headed out of his cell to be anyway that wasn't near fucking Gallagher.


	4. Chapter 4

Mickey mooched back to his cell a hell of a lot later that day. Ian hadn't been at lunch and he was pissed off that he even noticed. He'd done everything he could to distract himself from that fucker. He'd done laundry duty, he'd worked out in the yard, and he'd even tried to read a fucking book. When he realised that the inevitability he'd have to go back soon enough wasn't going to go away, he gave in. What pissed him off was that he wasn't just going back to his cell anymore, he was going back to Ian and that wasn't okay.

He leant against the bars of their cell when he saw Ian was sitting on his bunk looking as sulky as he probably did. Ian was stripped to his waist and Mickey hated himself so much for not be able to not look. He took in the sight of Ian's delicate pale skin that was showered with freckles. His muscle tone fiercer than ever and for some reason Mickey felt happy that even though things had ended so badly, he'd seen the guy grow up. From the sweet redhead with innocent eyes into this strong man who stood independently from his too fucking large family. He could see the tattoo on Ian's side that Mickey had always thought was hot. That was when Ian looked up at him, interrupting his floor show.

'ABH.' Ian muttered.

Actual Bodily Harm.

'Who?' Mickey asked warily. Wanting to know as much as he could before Ian shut him off again.

'Some guy tried to hurt Mandy. So I rearranged his face.' Ian answered so matter of factly.

Pride swelled so deep within Mickey's bones. He hadn't considered the effect his incarceration might have had on his sister. He had been selfish, but he always had been. Milkoviches had to look after themselves as no other fucker ever looked out for them. But now, Ian was banged up in here with him, for doing the job he should have been doing, protecting his sister.

'Thanks man.' Mickey said, not knowing what else he could offer. 'Look I know you're not fucking happy about being here, and that's cool. But if we're sharing this cell we can be cool yeah?'

Ian looked up at Mickey with those eyes that he had never been able to shake.

'Yeah.' Ian breathed, 'We can be cool.'

Relief shuddered through Mickey as he relaxed in a way that he hadn't done in months. He felt just a little less angry at the world right then. Like he could breathe without tensing all of a sudden, even though he hadn't even noticed that he was tense in the first place. He had never understood why Ian had such an effect on him, but he did and he was gonna fight that so hard. He would take this one though, he would accept that relief just this once and before he knew it, the words were tumbling out of his mouth.

'Come with me.'

'What?' Ian asked as he grabbed his shirt and threw it on.

'Just come on!' and Mickey turned round and bolted through the prison corridors with Ian at his heels.

When they turned up at Mickey's favourite bolthole in the prison he began to think it wasn't as impressive as he'd hoped, plus he knew they didn't have long until lights out. Next to the laundry hall was access to a small room that wasn't used for anything in particular. There was a shabby looking sofa and a coffee table and that was about it. Mickey made himself comfortable and pulled out the bottle of whiskey he had stashed there after exchanging an eighth of the weed he'd snuck in with him.

'How did you find this place?' Ian asked examining the room.

'Was on laundry duty once when I was new here, stumbled 'cross it by accident.' Mickey answered.

'Does anyone ever come in here?'

'Not in all the time I've been chilling out here.'

'Can't be much fun on your own.' Ian said pulling a face that Mickey didn't like because he seemed to be looking into his head without any fucking permission. Ian joined Mickey on the sofa and watched intently as Mickey swallowed a hefty gulp of the whiskey straight without even a thought. Ian could do the same, growing up where they did they were so used to the taste of drinks they didn't notice the difference anymore. Mickey handed the bottle over and Ian relished the subtle heat that burned down into his chest as he swallowed the liquor.

After about an hour they had talked about too much shit. Mickey had asked how Ian's family were, not that he really cared. Ian had updated him about Mandy. Mickey had told Ian the basic details on how to survive in prison. Yet there was a tension in the room, and the nearly empty litre bottle of vodka wasn't really helping. Ian was leaning just slightly on Mickey's side to keep him upright and Mickey could feel it. He felt stuck where he was, not wanting to lose Ian's contact. He could feel his skin burn through his clothes, he hated being drunk and not being able to jump Ian. He was so close he could smell him, that masculine smell of his deodorant and a faint tinge of coconut. But he breathed through it.

'Are you seeing anyone?' Mickey blurted out before he could even okay the question.

Ian pulled back slightly and looked at Mickey full square in the face, as if he was deciding whether or not to tell the truth.

'Well, I was fucking the guy you nearly murdered until I got thrown in here but it wasn't exclusive.' Ian answered honestly, as if he was testing Mickey's reaction.

That pissed Mickey off, and the content drunkenness that had taken over him switched into a burning anger deep inside him. That fucker couldn't take warnings could he? Even after Mickey's rampage he was still fucking Gallagher. Mickey promised himself then when he fucking got out of here he would find this guy and make sure he finished the job. He'd have his head on a fucking platter if he had anything to do with it.

Ian felt Mickey tense, and the atmosphere in the room changed. He didn't want Mickey to switch, he didn't want to lose this, whatever this was that they had right now. It felt secret, it felt like them. Ian only knew one way to calm Mickey without crossing the line. The imaginary line he'd drawn because he had enough experience to know that they did not work, not as a couple. Ian leant his body back into Mickey's and placed a hand on his neck, gently running his thumb across his skin in an attempt to soothe his bubbling temper.

Mickey's irritation eased as quickly as it had arisen when Ian put his hand on him. The skin to skin contact brought a more scorching need to the forefront than to smash the room up. Ian kept dragging his thumb across his neck and he felt himself get fucking hard. He was angry and he was horny, and he knew which one was more important. He had to find some self-control from fucking somewhere. He wanted Ian. Badly.

'LIGHTS OUT IN TEN.' Both men jolted apart from each other as they heard the command rattle through the prison, which meant they needed to get to their cell now.

'We need to go.' Mickey said urgently, he quickly downed the last of the whiskey and hid the bottle as both of them legged it back through the prison, Mickey leading the way, taking the safest route back to their busy corridor as everyone bustled into their cells for the night. About ten minutes later their cells were locked and suddenly it was just them again. Ian, Mickey and four walls. When everyone finally quietened down for the night Ian was still laughing over the thrill of the evening and Mickey could still feel the fucking whiskey burning around his body. He hoped it was the booze making him feel intoxicated though. Either way he felt fucking drunk.

'Have you missed me?' Ian asked with a smile on his face, looking pretty fucked himself.

'Fuck off man.' Mickey answered with no real venom there, he wondered what the fuck Ian was playing at. Did he want this to get heavy? Because questions like that weren't helping him to keep his distance. Ian spread out on the floor like that seemed like a fucking invitation. Ian turned his head and stared at him.

'Fucking answer me. I wanna know.' There was a confidence in his tone, an arrogance that turned Mickey on, like he already knew the fucking answer.

'What d'you think dickhead?' Mickey shot back, full of his own attitude.

Then before Mickey knew what was happening. Ian was on top of him. Ian bit him on his neck, on the tender skin just above his collarbone which elicited a moan from deep inside Mickey. Mickey's hands clawed at the clothes Ian was still fucking wearing. Ian helped him get his shirt off and Mickey ran his hands over every muscle in Ian's back, scratching with his blunt nails because he knew Ian liked that. Sure enough, each time he scraped Ian's skin the redhead stopped ravaging at Mickey's neck to moan into him trying to say quiet so no one else would hear them.

'Don't mark me where they can see.' Mickey muttered as Ian tore his shirt off. The last thing they needed was for everyone to think Mickey was a bitch with hickeys all over his neck. Ian's dick was hard against his and he could feel the ache through his clothes as it throbbed, desperate for skin on skin. Mickey rolled his hips up rubbing their dicks together and moulding his body to Ian's in any way he could find. He wasn't usually a touchy feely guy, he just wanted Ian to fuck him hard and fast and rough cause that was the way he liked it. But he hadn't felt Ian's skin burning against his in so long, he'd been fucking deprived of this. Ian hard and grinding against him as he pulled Mickey's unruly black hair back roughly to get at more of the sensitive spots on his neck.

Slowly Ian worked his way down Mickey's body biting, nipping and licking at anywhere he wanted and every time he did, Mickey's hips would involuntarily jump, and he had to bite his bottom lip hard to stop himself making too much noise. Slowly, Ian licked hard over Mickey's left hipbone, and he just couldn't stifle the moan that forced its way out of him as he grit his teeth hard. Mickey might not want his neck marked, but as Ian sucked hard he knew his hip would be swollen tomorrow. He didn't care, he liked it and he pushed his hip harder into Ian's mouth, even when it started to hurt because he'd never really known how to not mix pain and pleasure.

'You like that huh?' Ian asked, and even though it was dark Mickey could practically feel the shit eating grin that plastered his face.

'I'd like it even more if you put your fucking dick in me.' Mickey threw back with no malice, but that didn't stop it being true. For once though Ian didn't even seem to want to protest, and within seconds he'd thrown off the rest of their clothes. Ian brought a hand up to Mickey's face and placed two fingers at his mouth.

'Suck.' Ian ordered and Mickey felt like his dick grew impossibly harder at the authoritative tone in Ian's voice. Mickey might be a bottom, but he wasn't a submissive. Usually he gave Ian as good as he got, but after waiting six fucking months he was willing to let Ian have the control. As long as he fucked him until he couldn't breathe. He opened his mouth and licked Ian's padded fingers, covering them until they were slick with spit and then sucking on them hard for good measure because he loved the noises that Ian was making. Ian eventually brought his hand down and placed both fingers at Mickey's hole.

'You ready?' he asked gingerly, Gallagher always did this, treated Mickey like he was fucking fragile.

'Just get on with it.' Mickey answered. So Ian did, and pushed both fingers in slowly.

He could feel Mickey's muscles relax around his fingers and when he knew he was ready, started stretching him out. He could vaguely make out Mickey's face in the dark and he watched as Mickey became more needy, writhing underneath him, trying to fuck back on Ian's fingers.

'Gallagher, enough. I wanna feel it, fucking get in me.' Mickey said, trying hard to keep his voice stable, but there was a rough tone to it, and Ian had always loved it when Mickey's voice went like that. Because suddenly he wasn't trying to be the tough guy, he was desperate for Ian and even though he denied it mentally, Ian knew that physically it was blazingly obvious that his body wanted him. Ian wanted Mickey to feel it too.

'Turn over. All fours.' Ian hushed, and Mickey obliged so willingly Ian couldn't help but smirk. He jerked his leaking dick a few times before aligning it with Mickey's entrance. Mickey wasn't really stretched enough, he could feel that the second he pushed in. He was so fucking tight around him but when he stopped pushing forward Mickey pushed back. Once he was fully inside Mickey, Ian needed a second to get himself together.

'Move.' Mickey pleaded, thinking the break in movement was for his benefit.

Ian pulled nearly all the way out and slammed back into Mickey hard enough to make him shout louder than he should have considering where they were.

'Fuck, Ian.' Mickey's voice shook and his arms gave out on holding him up as Ian relentlessly began to pound into him. This was how Mickey liked it, his whole body turned to Jell-O, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to control the noises that were falling out of him, but he couldn't and that was dangerous, his head was spinning and he felt delirious, so close to the edge. Ian's dick made him feel so full, so complete. Ian suddenly hauled Mickey up, with his dick still inside him, his back flush to his chest. Ian pushed Mickey's head into his neck to muffle the moans that he couldn't seem to control and Mickey threw an arm back to clutch Ian closer.

'Ian, fuck I gotta come.' Mickey said and his hand found the redheads as he guided it towards his dick which so far hadn't been touch. Ian continued rolling his hips into Mickey, as he held him upright with one arm and jerked him off with the other and Mickey made another mental note that he would tell Ian later he was a great fucking multi-tasker.

Ian bit down hard on Mickey's shoulder as he came, spilling his load into him, and that made Mickey shatter into pieces as the last ounce of control left him as he felt Ian come inside him. Ian jacked his dick for all he was worth until he fell forward, unable to move, his senses battered and his body tender in the most delicious way. Ian quickly crashed next to him. Not long after Mickey wiped away the come that was leaking out of him with his bed covers and tangled his legs with Ian's as he curled his body around him. Soon enough as their bodies cooled and the post orgasmic haze faded away, tiredness overcame them both and Mickey slept better that night than he had for ages.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Mickey woke to find that Ian wasn't next to him. Their cell was already unlocked, how late had he slept? He was covered in his blanket and Ian must have done that and he was pretty grateful that he had to be honest. Mickey didn't think their sex last night would have stayed a secret if the guards had walked passed to find Mickey butt naked. Mickey clambered out of bed and hauled his hideously fucking orange uniform back on. He winced slightly because he was still a little sore and his kind of like that in a sadistic fucked up kind of way. He ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to look slightly more presentable and less like he'd been fucked within an inch of his life last night and headed out to see where Ian had got to.

Mickey wondered later why he hadn't expected Gallagher to be pretty pissed off about what happened last night. They had both agreed they would be cool, they hadn't agreed to be fuckbuddies. Mickey found him outside in the yard working out next to Jack and two other guys whose names he didn't know. One of them he recognised as Double C's henchmen though so he avoided the glare that came his way as he headed over to Ian.

'Yo man, you disappeared fucking early. Everything cool?' Mickey asked, being as discreet as he knew how to be. Although when Ian met his eyes he wished in a way he hadn't come over at all. Ian looked a mixture of pissed off and confused at him.

'Yeah I'm good, got a bit drunk last night, needed to get some fresh air.' He answered, playing it cool. Mickey didn't like that. Is that what Ian was going to do? Play it like it was some drunken mistake. Well if that's the way he felt then fuck him, it wasn't like Ian had tried to fucking stop it happening. What pissed Mickey off was that he could still feel Ian all over him, he was covered in bruises, and his ass still stung, and now instead of that feeling like a secret between them, it felt cheap and that was something they had never been. But before he got a chance to retaliate he noticed Double C sauntering over.

'Well well well, fresh meat.' Double C remarked and he looked Ian up and down like that was actually what he was, a prize cut. Like flesh to a cannibal. 'So Milkovich, who have we got here then?'

Before Mickey could even answer, Ian jumped in, not willing to let Mickey speak for him.

'Ian Gallagher, and you?'

'Everyone calls me Double C.' he answered with a smirk that made Mickey want to pull each and every one of his teeth out. 'You sharing with Milkovich?' the sleazy fucker asked.

'Yeah, for now anyway.' At that Mickey wondered whether he should just leave Ian to the mercy of Double C and let him become one of his bitches. What did he fucking mean, for now?

'He's a lucky boy.' Double C remarked, and he casually walked behind where Ian was sat and slid one of his dirty hands across Gallagher's shoulder blades.

'Don't fucking touch him.' Mickey spat, feeling the urge to kill Double C with his bare hands rising in his stomach. He'd rather suck the guy off fifty times before he let him near Gallagher. He didn't care that Ian sent a furious look his way, he was too busy watching the son of a bitch who thought he run this joint.

'Why not? He's not yours is he? You didn't seem that interested when I was touching you.'

Mickey knew that the game Double C was playing wasn't about actually being a fag, to him it was about power. It was about having control over as many people as he could. Unfortunately for Mickey, he was a fucking fag, so none of Double C's games were really all that relevant. But at that revelation, Ian looked up at Mickey with questions in his eyes, wondering how on earth this guy had managed to touch Mickey in the first place. Mickey was also pretty sure he saw jealousy flicker quickly across Ian's face whilst he tried to conjure up an acceptable answer.

'I'm not his, but I ain't gonna be yours either.' Ian answered quickly digging Mickey out of the grave he'd dug for himself and Mickey wondered how yet again the tables had turned from him protecting Gallagher to the other way round.

'You sound like Milkovich.' Double C commented and he quickly glanced around to check there were no guards about. Everyone else had fucked off and given them space the second Double C had walked over. Pussies, the lot of them.

'Listen boys, everybody in this block, works for me. Whether you like it or not, I control who lives and who dies. I control what goes in and out of here. I control who fucks who and if either of you pussy ass queers think you can change that. I'll make sure to change your mind. I've given Milkovich a break for now so he can see sense and I'll do the same for you because you're new. Plus both of you are so pretty, I wouldn't want to ruin those faces, not unless I really had to. But ultimately, you'll be whatever I want you to be, am I making myself clear?'

Ian nodded once, because it was clear everything he had said was true and Mickey didn't do anything, bucking his usual trend, he let someone walk away unscathed. He knew at some point he was going to have to take Double C on, but today wasn't gonna be that day, so he repressed the urge to break his neck and turned back to Gallagher.

'We need to fucking talk.'

As he walked back inside the building he knew that Ian was following him. He headed to the canteen as it was nearly lunch time and he sat at a table that was out of the way and where no one close by could hear them. Ian sat opposite him and looked at him blankly as if he had no fucking clue why he was there.

'Okay Gallagher. You know I was telling you yesterday how to survive in here. Something I should have told you is don't fuck with Double C. He ain't joking with what he says, everyone here obeys him. The day you got here in the shower room, I didn't, and now he's after me. So watch yourself, and don't talk shit unless you can back it.' Mickey breathed asking the more important question. 'And. Why are you pissed at me for last night?'

'I don't need you to protect me Mick. And I'm not pissed with you, I'm pissed at me, for letting it happen, you know as well as I do it shouldn't have happened.'

'Why?' Mickey asked.

'Cause we ain't together man, we were done ages ago and we still would be if I didn't get banged up here.' And Mickey couldn't deny it, that stung, but he knew it was true.

'Fucking hell Gallagher, I ain't saying be my one and only, loads of people in this place are fucking, don't mean their together.'

Ian seemed to ponder that for a while, it wasn't an inaccurate statement, but he and Mickey had history, not that that had ever stopped them fucking before. He looked at Mickey questioningly before asking;

'What is it you want then?'

Mickey itched just to say. You. But he wasn't a queer he just took it up the ass so he threw that thought from his mind as quickly as it had shown up there uninvited.

'I ain't saying I want anything. I just want us to be us man, we've never been able to bullshit each other, there ain't no point in starting now.' Mickey paused before adding on 'I ain't got a problem with us banging, but if you're gonna move from sharing with me then this conversation don't mean shit anyway.' Mickey couldn't help getting that dig in, he wanted Gallagher to know he was a prick for that.

'I just thought it might make this-' he said gesturing between them both 'easier.'

'Well you do whatever you want Firecrotch, your call.' Mickey finished their exchanged and got up and went to go do something that didn't involve Gallagher.

Ian stayed where we was, a glint in his eye and a slight smile on his face at the familiar nickname.


	6. Chapter 6

Mickey got back to the cell first again that night, how did Gallagher always manage to hold out longer than him? Still, he's pretty bloody proud with how he dealt with the conversation between them earlier. He'd told Ian the truth, but he'd managed to do it without sounding like a pussy. He knew he'd accomplished in making it look like he didn't really care that much and he wanted to tap himself on the fucking back for how well he had played their game. He'd willingly given Ian the choice, which meant he didn't have to think anymore. For the second time in the last few days he didn't want the power, he wanted Ian to make the call and decide for them both. Judging by the other night Mickey thought he knew which way this would swing. Still though, there remained this shred of doubt that he couldn't quite shake as he stared at the ceiling trying to read the graffiti someone even more bored than him had left whilst they'd been doing their own stretch.

Ian had had the ball in his court before, and he had walked away from Mickey before too. Mickey felt his gut twist at the thought of Ian telling him they were done again. The last time he had Mickey had ended up here, because Mickey only knew how to relate pain to two things. One of them was pleasure, and the other was violence, Ian didn't leave him with a choice. Where could Mickey go now? He was already banged up.

He tried to reassure himself that it was Ian, not him who had made the most accurate comment of them all. It always ended up with them two. Would Ian really wanna fuck that pattern up now that he was facing eighteen months in this hellhole? Surely, now more than ever he would want Mickey close, but then Mickey knew not to underestimate him, Ian could be an independent prick when he wanted, he'd even fucked off to the army to prove that point.

Mickey had never been close with anyone. He had a dysfunctional relationship with his sister, but they'd never really been able to fix that. He and Mandy had both learnt from day one that being born into the Milkovich family meant a couple of things; one, you needed to know how to fight, and two, life was a free for all. They took a survival of the fittest approach towards everything they did, because no one else ever did fuck all to help them survive. Mickey knew someone up there must hate him because when they were dishing out families he'd been properly screwed. Getting too close to people brought weakness but Gallagher was his one and only exception to that most fundamental of rules.

When Mickey tried to work out why it always ended up back with them, he could only assume that despite their clear differences, they understood each other. They'd been through too much together to pretend like they couldn't instinctively and subconsciously work each other out. Mickey knew that Ian was the only person he'd ever let in and he didn't regret that, because he could never really regret what they had. But he did in a way wish that he had been stronger, so that Ian didn't make him feel so fucking weak.

He smashed his fist against the cold grey wall, hard enough to break skin, but not any bones. He hissed in frustration, he'd got himself chucked in here to get Ian out of his head, not for him to be practically living in it. He could feel he blood trickle down his wrist and didn't do a fucking thing to stop it, he just wanted to know where he stood. Mickey understood now, how Ian had felt back when Mickey was still so far in the closet he might as well have been fucking Mr Tumnus against a lamppost. He understood how Ian must have felt so screwed up trying to work out what the hell they were. So, because karma's a bitch now it was Mickey's turn and he didn't know how Gallagher had done this for as long as he had.

'You're bleeding.' Someone stated nonchalantly and Mickey knew that voice in a heartbeat. He'd been so engrained in his own head that he hadn't noticed Ian leant up against the bars of their cell looking as hot as ever. Mickey hated him for that.

'Thanks Sherlock.' Mickey replied as sarcastically as he could and Ian knew better than to ask why Mickey's knuckles were dripping.

'Listen Mick –' and Mickey didn't want him to carry on, he didn't even look at him because he didn't think he was going to like what he was about to hear. His heart was racing but his body was braced, ready to take the hit. He wasn't going to be afraid.

Fortunately for him, that was as far as the redhead even managed to get. An alarm blasted hard through the whole of D Block, drowning out everything as it screeched and echoed loudly around them. The deafening warning racked their brains before they had time to adjust that was when the chaos erupted.

Mickey was the first to dash out of the cell to see what was happening, purely because Gallagher hadn't clocked on that WWIII had just broken out on the ground floor. Mickey stared over the balcony in horror at the anarchy that was ascending from below. A full out riot had begun, fully grown adult rational men were wrestling each other to the ground, knocking teeth out, busting lips, blackening eyes and breaking bones. That was when Mickey reminded himself that these weren't rational men, they were convicts.

Those that weren't fighting were watching, shouting, encouraging others to kill or threatening to do it themselves. Cowards, he thought to himself. Toilet paper was flying through the air and the floors above joined in with the pandemonium and if Mickey was deep enough, the scene before him could have looked like an artistic protest. Those in maximum security were beating the bars of their cells like caged apes, desperate to get involved in the action. Guards were calling for back up, they were vastly outnumbered by the primal thugs that thrived on this bedlam.

This had only happened once before whilst Mickey had been incarcerated and it hadn't been on this scale. Everyone was fighting to the death and no one wanted to give up, they used every weapon that they had hidden, stashed away for opportunities just like this where they could kill their enemies or provide back up for allies. Mickey had fought last time, caught a couple of nasty punches but nothing too bad. The blood pumped around his body as he observed the onslaught in front of him, wanting to jump straight into the frenzy like he had last time. When he turned around though his eyes locked on Gallagher, his already pale skin had turned a deathly shade of white and his eyes were wide with shock. He knew that Ian could fight, he would give as good as he got, but the redhead didn't fight like this, and he definitely didn't fight to kill just for the kicks. Mickey knew then that Ian deserved better than him, because he did, his heart wasn't good like Ian's was.

A more overwhelming instinct kicked in then, the fight creeping higher, escalating between more and more guys. He needed Gallagher safe, but where could they go? They couldn't run, he had a fucking reputation to protect.

'Too pussy to join in with the fun huh Milky?'

Mickey whipped round to find Double C chiding him, he had the guard (Mickey was ninety nine percent it was Bradley) in a headlock. To give him credit the guy was fighting back hard but Double C was considerably stronger than he looked.

'Get the fuck off him man.' Mickey snarled, of all the people in this place that deserved to die, Bradley wasn't one of them, and Mickey knew that was exactly why Double C had picked him.

'I can exchange him for the pretty redhead, if you'd prefer.' Double C leered back raking his eyes over Ian like he was an animal at the slaughter. He was holding the guard back with impressive ease.

At that, for the first time since he'd been in here, genuine fear raced through Mickey's body. Not Ian, not fucking Gallagher. To give him credit too, Mickey saw Ian pull himself together, ready to defend himself, ready to kill if he really had to.

'I've already warned you once. Keep your fucking hands off him.' Mickey gritted out. His fists were ready and his eyes were dark, pupils blown as the anger pulsed through him at Double C's heavy threat. He watched as a disturbing smile broke across the blonde villain's face and he glanced down at the guard he was still restraining as if it was taking no energy at all.

'Calm down princess, so protective over your pet, don't worry I'm saving you both for something special.' He promised and then all Mickey saw was a flash of metal as Double C slashed Bradley's throat in one sharp move. The noise around them raged on as the blood spurted out of the guard's neck, gushing red. Ian watched on in shock as the body slowly drained of blood and the life seeped out of Bradley. Double C cackled like a maniac and then ran off gleefully to join the disarray that was still continuing below them.

'Get back in the cell.' Mickey barked at Ian and for once he just did as he was told, still too stunned to challenge in return. Mickey got involved and fought who he had to maintain his reputation, but he did his best to make sure he didn't take any more lives. There had been enough bloodshed.

Eventually about half an hour later when there were a ton more casualties and a few more dead they were restrained and the guards regained control of the block. Mickey was thrown roughly back into his cell, he'd taken a gash to the head and blood was streaming down his face, he also suspected a dislocated shoulder and a couple of broken ribs. Gallagher didn't even notice his presence, he just stared blankly back outside the bars. When Mickey followed his gazed he realised that Ian was watching Bradley's cold dead eyes as if he expected them to blink.


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Mickey got back from the infirmary it was late, but he had insisted they didn't keep him overnight and they didn't give a shit enough to argue with him. Turned out none of his ribs were broken, there was just severe bruising, his shoulder had been snapped back into place and that had hurt like a bitch. He'd also had a few stitches in his head, but even he knew he'd got out of the riot practically unscathed compared to some of the guys he had seen in there. Mickey didn't put that down to luck though, he was just a good fighter, and he'd had enough practice.

When he finally got back to his cell he found Ian lying on Mickey's bunk, facing away from the bars, like he was trying to shut the world out. Mickey couldn't help wondering how the guy thought he would have survived in the army if he couldn't even deal with seeing some random guards throat slashed. Mickey tried to understand Ian's feelings, he really did, because he knew Ian was stronger than sometimes he seemed. When they were battling the worst of Ian's bipolar moods something Ian's eldest sister with the curly hair (Fiona? He thought) had said to him stuck in his mind.

'_When Ian feels something, he feels it properly. It's not half hearted. He feels with full force.' _

She was right, and it helped Mickey to understand why Ian was the guy that he was. His brain was wired in a way that made him care more than most people, his feelings consumed him and he never tried to hide it. Not like Mickey did, he'd resented that for a long time, because really, Ian was braver than he was.

'Forget about it Firecrotch, you'll get used to it in here.' Mickey said, offering comfort even though he didn't really know how to.

At the nickname that held so much, so much affection, Ian turned around and faced him, his eyes swept across Mickey's presence, assessing the damage that had been done.

'Does it hurt?' Ian asked quietly.

'Nah, just a few cuts and bruises. I've had worse.' Mickey answered, immediately resuming his role as a tough guy, even though his answer wasn't really a lie.

'Mick.' There was a soft edge to Ian's voice that broke Mickey. He hated seeing Ian like this, he wanted to help. He knew what Ian needed, someone who would take care of him, but Mickey couldn't do that. Not in the way Ian wanted. Besides this place wasn't somewhere you could allow the people you cared about to be fragile or delicate, that made them vulnerable. He wasn't going to let Ian be a target. But he had to do something, so he braced himself and built up the courage and moved before he could change his mind.

The second Mickey attached himself on top of Ian he framed his face with his rough hands, closed his eyes and kissed him hard. Mickey was never even really sure if he knew how to kiss, but when his lips were moulding to Ian's soft warm mouth he didn't even really care. It took Ian a second to respond, and in that time Mickey wasn't sure whether to kill himself or kill Ian. Every single nerve ending in his body was screaming at him to stop this. This was too much, too real, too intimate, too affectionate. All the things that Mickey wasn't. Then Ian started kissing him back and Mickey's mouth went lax as Ian bit at his bottom lip and sucked on it gently, he couldn't help moaning into his mouth as their tongues brushed together and the shiver that ripped through him was forceful and Ian felt it.

Ian's hands steadied him as he sat up and pulled Mickey into his lap and for some reason that he didn't want to think about Mickey wrapped his legs around Ian's back pulling them flush together. The position they were in gave Mickey more height than usual and as Ian ran his hands down Mickey's waist and let them settle on his hips he gently pushed his tongue into Ian's mouth. Their make out session became sloppy as both men battled for dominance with their tongues and Mickey thought he might just burst into flames when Ian moaned his named into his mouth. The heat was too much as his body ached with need, so Mickey rolled his hips down on Ian's dick that was hard underneath him.

'Fuck, Mickey.' Ian breathed out as his dark haired Milkovich kept grinding against him as he finally broke their mouths apart to kiss down his neck and then lick across his jaw. He'd never treated Ian's body like this before, he'd never tasted his skin, felt his nails dig into his hip bones as he bit at his mouth or learnt the curves of Ian's ripped muscles under his fingers. It was intimate, and that put him on edge, but that was what made it so fucking real. He hoped it was helping Ian, because Mickey had never felt more alive. This might kill him, but it was worth the fucking risk.

Quickly both were shirtless when Mickey couldn't take the lack of skin contact any longer. He couldn't believe how turned on he was just from rutting against Ian's dick and kissing him senseless, he wasn't fucking fourteen. Shit, even when he was fourteen he hadn't felt this close from practically nothing. Mickey pushed Ian back down onto the bed as he trailed light kisses down his body, when he grabbed the waistband of his pants Ian lifted his hips to let Mickey strip him of the rest of his clothes. Mickey had only sucked Ian's dick once, the night after he'd picked him up from Boys Town when he was coked out of his mind. He licked along Ian's shaft, and when he got to the helmet he decided he liked the salty taste of Ian's pre come which had beaded there.

'Oh, shit.' Ian exhaled and Mickey could feel him grip the bed sheets as he worked to control how his hips tried to jerk his dick further down his throat. Ian brought his other hand down and grabbed hold of Mickey's hair, and when Mickey felt that Ian was trying to put pressure there, silently begging for him to suck more of him, Mickey did just that. He forced Ian's hard dick as far into his mouth as he could and when the tip reached the back of his throat, he adjusted and relaxed to stop himself from gagging and then swallowed around Ian's dick.

'Fuck, fuck Mickey, gonna come.'

But Mickey didn't want this to be over yet, so he pulled off and went back to licking along the veins in Ian's dick despite the groans that came out of him as the peak of his orgasm was cruelly taken away from him. Mickey wanted Ian to have whatever the fuck would make him feel a little less broken, and it's not like he was complaining. So for the first time in all the years they'd been fucking, there was time for another first, and it came in the form of a question.

'What do you want?' Mickey asked hotly, his voice husky with lust.

'Anything, you. Want you. Wanna fuck you.' The words just fell out of Ian, he wasn't thinking about them, that was what he wanted and Mickey could easily oblige to that request, but as he flipped them over, took the rest of his clothes off and assumed the normal position Ian stopped him.

'Face to face.' He purred. 'Wanna fuck you face to face. Wanna see it.'

That stopped Mickey straight in his tracks. They didn't fuck like that, they had never fucked like that. It was the only thing he was still able to hide, that Ian didn't see his eyes roll back and his face fall slack at the feeling of being fucked so good. That Ian didn't know how he looked when he came with him inside him. Mickey didn't think he could do that. It was the one thing he wasn't ready to give. It meant they weren't fucking, it was sex, real sex with feelings and complications and even though Mickey knew they had all of that anyway he wasn't ready to accept it so willingly. But he'd promised himself that tonight he would make Ian feel good, he'd given in to everything else, and besides this was his Firecrotch, he would stop if Mickey didn't like it. So against all his better judgement he rolled over onto his back.

As Ian held himself up over Mickey he rolled his hipbones into his to rub their leaking dicks together as he sucked on the usual fingers he used to stretch Mickey open.

'No, don't.' Mickey said through clenched teeth as he held back a moan, 'if we're fucking doing this, I want to feel it properly.'

'It will hurt.' Ian pointed out. Mickey knew that was true, but he also knew Ian wouldn't do shit if he was in pain. He trusted him completely.

'Like the fucking first time.' Mickey stated. 'Do it.' And as Ian ground his hipbones into him again, he growled out a word he made a point of never using - 'Please.'

With a pleading Mickey under him, face to face Ian wasn't about to resist, so he slicked his dick with the newly formed pre come dripping down his shaft and pushed slowly into Mickey.

'Fuck.'

The expletive fell from Mickey's mouth before he could ever consider censoring it, he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his bottom lip hard. The deeper Ian pushed in, the worse the burn got, but it was a pleasurable sort of burn that hummed around the muscles he was trying to relax. Once Ian was fully inside him, he allowed Mickey to breathe through the pain and ran his hands over his chest and down to his calves to help his body go loose. When it did, Mickey started to push back onto Ian's dick, which was how he knew he was ready.

'Open your eyes, I want you to watch.' Ian directed seductively as he tried to focus on angling his hips in the right place to get deeper inside Mickey ever so slowly.

'Fuck you Gallagher.' Mickey hissed as Ian hit that sweet spot inside him, but he did as he was told because Mickey wanted to see how Ian looked as he fucked into him. Ian's skin was warm and his lips were flushed red from all the kissing, Mickey had left light teeth marks down his body and his pupils were blown. They both locked eyes as Ian fucked deep into him, savouring each stroke of his dick inside Mickey's tight fucking heat, gently he brushed his fingertips over Mickey's bruises from earlier that had formed darkly on his body. Staying inside him, he kissed each one gently, as if he expected that to heal them.

Mickey needed to pick the pace up, his dick was aching and throbbing as Ian touched everywhere except the one place he needed to be touched. Mickey liked the pressure on his bruises mixed with Ian fucking into him, it felt raw. It felt real, and Mickey had spent so long running from that he hadn't realised what he was fucking missing. Ian brought himself further upright then and placed a hand on each of Mickey's hips as he pulled him back on his dick hard.

A whine escape from Mickey along with another list of profanities at that and gradually he picked up the pace and began to screw him faster. It didn't take him too long to feel like he was close so he leant further over Mickey and kissed his lax mouth as he watch his face which only edged him closer.

'Need to fucking come Firecrotch.'

Mickey looked so good that he wanted to reward Mickey's compliance tonight and began to jerk him off roughly, thrusting deep into him in a matching rhythm as he watched his face twists in all kinds of attractive ways. He was biting his lip so hard he'd torn the flesh there. His eyes squeezed shut and then flew wide open as Mickey's whole body arched upwards when he came first, the hot white liquid spurting over their stomachs. He wrapped his arms and legs around Ian like a leech, riding out his orgasm on Ian's dick. A few more thrusts and Ian was biting into Mickey's shoulder, muffling his moans as his release shuddered through him, as he came deep inside Mickey's tight hole.

Ian collapsed on top of Mickey as his body gave out, both of them breathing heavily and trying to calm the after effects of their powerful orgasms. Mickey was still unravelling at the seams when Ian pulled out of him, but he didn't unwrap his legs from him, instead Ian pulled the covers over them, and they crashed out like that. Interlocked with each other, protected.

It was the best sex they had ever had and before sleep dragged Mickey under he prepared himself to remember to always fuck face to face whenever Ian fucking wanted.


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next few months they seemed to have come to an unspoken agreement, which pretty much worked out. Although it took them back to square one in their relationship because they were back to screwing each other secretly whenever they could, but it wasn't like they could tell anyone. That was why neither of them made it an issue, they wanted each other, but both of them knew being public about that was suicide so for the first time they had a good excuse to lie low about what they were.

Not trying to define them meant that Mickey felt like all of his Christmases had come early. He'd always thought that was Ian's problem, he'd always tried to put them in a big box labelled 'HOMO' for the world to see and that had made them complicated, because Mickey couldn't do that. The fact he liked to fuck dudes didn't define him, it was practically the same as being a fucking vegetarian and it definitely didn't stop him being a badass motherfucker. He didn't see why it was such a big deal that he apparently needed to act like a queer for the benefit of everyone else because it was never gonna happen.

To keep up the pretence they were nothing more than cellmates they tried not to spend too much time together during daylight hours. Mickey still hung out with Jack when he felt like it or disappeared to fulfil meaningless tasks that classified as good behaviour in prison. Meanwhile Ian would work out in the yard or hang out with this guy Mickey really didn't fucking like called Aaron.

Mickey knew Aaron was in this place for being a paedophile but you wouldn't ever think it. He was in his early thirties, and had been thrown behind bars after he was found guilty of screwing one of the students he taught who hadn't even hit fourteen yet. He claimed it was love. Mickey thought he was a sick fucker. He still hadn't been able to manage convincing Ian of that yet because whenever he tried to Ian would start talking shit about how people hadn't wanted them together either, but that didn't stop them. Then when Mickey would tell him he was fucked up for trying to understand a creep like Aaron, the annoying ginger prick would tell him that other people had to understand that he liked fucking guys so who was he to judge. Bastard. Mickey hated that he'd never beat Ian in a verbal argument, especially now he couldn't deck him either.

Lip and Mandy were coming to visit them both today. Ian had said that apparently they were together again. She was so fucking unoriginal, but then again he couldn't really talk. As they were led out to the visiting area he walked in front of Gallagher, who was so close Mickey could feel his breath on his ear and when he turned round to give him a death stare Ian face burst into laughter.

'Prick.' Mickey muttered under his breath.

'You love it.' Ian answered cockily in the most arrogant of tones, and then he skipped over to sit opposite where Lip was waiting for him at a table. He hoped Ian's good mood was gonna last, he'd been up a down like a rollercoaster ever since the day of the riot, but as far as Mickey knew, Ian was taking his meds, he was called to the infirmary the same time every day to take them. He was still fucking Mickey whatever mood he was in, but it changed the kind of sex they had. Still, Mickey kept a watchful eye over Ian's temperament because even though he didn't fucking care, he didn't want Ian to get them in unnecessary shit because he was losing it. He didn't want Ian to think he was getting too involved because he knew deep down he did care big time. It was hard not to pay attention when if he wasn't sharing a cell with the guy he was banging him the rest of the time.

Mickey spotted Mandy at the back of the room and slouched over to her eventually sinking into a chair. She looked good, he thought. Her usual dark makeup was on and her long hair down, but she was in a floral dress that hit her knees and her tits weren't on full display. She looked feminine without looking like a slut, and Mickey didn't say it, but she looked happy.

'Y'alright sis?' he asked, still feeling like a prick that he hadn't been there when some guy had pushed it with her. He'd love to tear that fuckers eyes out of his own head.

'Yeah man, I'm doing good, you?' she replied, but before he could answer she carried on, 'I can't believe you and Ian are sharing fucking cells, it's so ironic.'

He then realised that she didn't know. Ian couldn't have told Lip like he'd expected him to because she didn't have a clue they were sort of but not really back together.

'Yeah well, I didn't have a choice in it.' Mickey answered gruffly not meeting her eyes and before he knew it, he'd already given it away. Mandy's eyes went wide and she leaned in closer and lowered her voice because she wasn't a bitch and she wasn't an idiot. She wouldn't be the one to get Mickey killed by giving the game away.

'You're fucking him aren't you?!' she whispered accusingly.

'Don't be stupid. Course m'not!' He shot back trying to cover his tracks.

'Yes you are! I know when you're lying Mickey. For how long?' she babbled and he knew that she wasn't gonna give up now. So he leant back in his chair and hushed her to keep her voice down. After quickly considering his options he couldn't see the point in lying, so he sighed and answered.

'Four months, maybe five.'

'Jesus Mickey, you could have waited!' and Mickey wanted to tell her he'd never been good at waiting, especially when it came to Ian. Milkoviches never knew when their last day was gonna come, so they didn't believe patience was a fucking virtue, just a waste of precious time. But he didn't tell her that cause she didn't need to know.

'I thought you and him were done for good.' She continued an eyebrow raised in an unsaid question that Mickey couldn't answer because for all he knew when they got out of here they might be done all over again.

'You can talk! I heard you're back with Loverboy over there.' Mickey countered, gesturing toward where Ian was sitting deep in conversation with his older brother.

Mandy shut up then, and Mickey grinned as the blush crept up tinging her pale cheeks pink.

'Fuck off man, he's been good to me, after – well I'm sure Ian's told you why he's in here. Lip looked after me.'

Guilt snuck up on Mickey then and he felt grateful that at least Mandy did have Lip. With him and Ian locked up in the slammer, those around to protect her had slimmed dramatically. Mickey knew he should have been the one who'd looked out for her, and he felt like a prick that he'd let his sister down. There was a time when he'd have said that Milkoviches stuck together, but he knew that was a lie. They only did if you stuck to the rules, if all you cared about was dodgy deals, booze and fighting. Mandy had stuck by him though, he should have been able to do the same for her.

'M'sorry Mands, if I wasn't in here I'd have done exactly what Ian did. Stick with the Gallagher's, they'll look out for you until I get out of here okay?' Mickey spoke as humbly as he felt and looked straight at her in a way that felt like a promise. In return she gave him a faint smile that expressed that she understood.

'It'll only be about a year now with good behaviour.' Mickey reassured her.

'I know you went off the rails because you broke up with Ian.' She whispered knowingly. 'And that's fine okay, I get that, but just don't do anything stupid Mick, please.'

'I won't do anything that I don't have to do okay?' because he wasn't the kind of guy that made promises he couldn't keep. 'I didn't go off the rails cause of him sis, what do you take me for. The hell d'you think I care what he does?'

But he could tell that she knew better.

'Do you love him?' Mickey asked her changing the subject, though he already knew the answer. He'd never seen Mandy happier than when things were good with Gallagher. Ironically he supposed, he was probably the same.

'Do you love Ian?' she counteracted wisely and without having to answer, Mickey knew she already probably already knew the answer to that too. He wasn't going to say it though, no fucking chance. That was basically like admitting defeat, accepting weakness. No, he still couldn't do that. Luckily Mandy didn't push him for an answer before she spoke again.

'Listen bro, I don't know if this is actually true, it's just my theory okay? But have you ever thought that you ended up in here because you didn't really have anything to live for without Ian. Maybe, just maybe, Ian couldn't really live without you either.'

With that the alarm went signalling that visiting was over, and as he said his goodbyes Mandy's words wouldn't get out of his head.


	9. Chapter 9

After visiting Ian didn't seem that interested in talking to Mickey as he headed out to yard with Aaron the kid fucker without even as much two words in his direction. He decided to let both of them get on with it, he wasn't in the mood for Ian's dodgy brain functions right now anyway. Wasn't seeing his brother meant to keep him cheerful? Whatever, he thought as he let Ian stroll off with his new boy toy and headed round to the laundry room.

Mickey found that there was something strangely soothing about the laundry room. There was a system and usually he wasn't one for those but this system worked without any hitches. Everything was white and there was a strong smell of freshness. The cleanliness of the room felt like it cleaned Mickey's mind, he was able to focus and think rationally with only the quiet hum of the washers around him.

Mickey thought about Mandy's theory and was pretty sure she was way off the mark. Ian could live without him, he'd proved it so many times. He had left him before and lived just fine. He fucked off to the army because he'd needed to get away, he had started fucking that old guy when Mickey had been chucked in Juvie. Hell, even before anything happened between them he was already screwing Kash. As much as he hated to admit it, it had always been him who had been reliant on Gallagher. There had only been one time when Mickey had given Ian up and that was when instead of slaying Frank, because Gallagher had practically begged him not to, he'd violated his probation to avoid the consequences when his dad found out he was a queer. He'd relied on Ian even then though, the visits where Ian would pick up the phone and talk to him through the glass panel separating them, they'd given him something to look forward to.

'_I miss you.' _

'_Take your hand off the glass.'_

Why couldn't Ian need him as much as he fucking did? They'd grown into so much more since then, it was so much more complicated now. Mickey had never wanted anyone like he wanted Ian. Still Mandy was wrong though, Gallagher was in here because he'd been protecting her. Mickey was in there because he was protecting himself. He didn't want to go back to a time without Ian, not really, so when he'd seen him making out with that guy, he was just projecting everything he'd felt inside, outside. Unfortunately that prick had been in his firing line, and he'd practically begged for it.

'Yo Milkovich!'

Mickey hadn't seen Jack follow him into the laundry room. He jumped up onto one of the dryers, a deep gash down his face was still a harsh looking red despite it having healed considerably since the riot. Jack had fought for most of the duration of the carnage, he too was lucky to still be breathing. Jammy fuckers they were.

'Alright man, what's new?'

'Not much, we're in a prison, same shit different day.' Jack joked and Mickey laughed in acknowledgment that their lives were fucked.

'Listen dude, I gotta talk to you about somethin'. He continued and Mickey gave him his full attention then, there was something in his voice that sounded serious like he needed to hear what Jack was about to tell him.

'Shoot, tell me.' Mickey urged, because if this was bad news he wanted to know, and if it was a secret then he wanted to know even more. He didn't want to be out of the loop, no matter how bad it was.

'Well basically, I know about you.' He stated simply but when Mickey looked confused he rephrased it. 'You and that Gallagher kid.'

'What about us?' Mickey flew on the defensive, how the fuck had he found out? Who else knew? He had to tell Ian this was out, they were gonna get fucking slaughtered. Shit, he tried to play it cool.

'I know he's your guy, I know your screwing him.'

'He's not fucking mine.' Mickey ground out. Who the fuck had ratted him out? 'Who told you this bullshit?' he pushed.

'Look man don't stress, no one else knows yet. Before I was transferred here a year or so ago, I was in a different jail. I knew your old man Terry, he told a lot of us about his fag son. When you were brought here I recognised the name. Gallagher fits the description Terry gave us of your pal, he wanted someone to try and take him out whenever we were released. But don't worry man, I ain't gonna grass you up.'

Mickey was struggling big time to slow down his heart rate. He knew everything. He wished he'd murdered his dad when he had the chance, sending death threats out for Ian? He was a dead fucker when they both got out of here. Despite knowing better Mickey still also felt a slight sense of shame that his dad was so disgusted by who he was. So much so he was still telling all his fucking jail buddies about the fact he fucked dudes.

'You've known all this time?' Mickey asked, shocked.

'Took me a couple of weeks to clock on, but yeah pretty much.' Jack replied, seemingly not bothered at all about what he knew.

'Then why are you telling me you know now?' Mickey questioned, wanting to know Jack's motives.

'That's what I've come to talk to you about. Okay so, I haven't told anyone about what I know Mick, I can swear that to ya. But the others their working it out, their suspicious mate, they know something's going on with you and Gallagher. If you are fucking him you gotta be craftier about it. Cause right now they can only assume, but if you give them an inch of proof they'll have you for breakfast.'

Mickey knew their little arrangement wasn't going to last forever, but he was surprised at how quick everyone seemed to have cottoned on. Plus the fact that no one had actually given him that much grief about Gallagher told him that something even more dangerous occurring. The others were planning. Probably planning to take him and Ian out. Jack was right, if they were suspicious that was risky as fuck because that meant they were all watching him, waiting for him to slip up. He needed to talk to Ian and they needed to come up with a new plan. He knew that all them other fuckers weren't gonna have their sentences extended by planning a kill mission on a guy they weren't sure was a fag outside of this place. The second they were sure though, they would tear him apart limb from limb.

Mickey wouldn't have minded so much a few months ago, he'd have fought back and put up the best fight he could have. Now though, Ian was in here, and if he was a target then so was Gallagher. He had to play them at their own game if there was any chance of keeping them safe.

'Thanks dude, for the heads up. I owe you one.' Mickey told Jack, and he was truly grateful. He was surprised at how subtle everyone had managed to be and Jack had kept quiet for him. That was a real ally. Mickey extended his hand out and Jack shook it with no hesitation.

'No worries man, makes no difference to me who you fuck.' Jack said and that reminded Mickey of home.

'_Sit down Mickey, nobody cares who you bang.' _

Kev had said that to him once, right after he'd come out. For once he wished that they weren't in here. For the first time he regretted getting locked away, things were just as dangerous in here as they were out there.

'Thanks Jack, just one more thing. The one who's stirring this shit, its Double C isn't it?' Mickey knew the answer, but he had to be sure there wasn't someone else whose execution he needed to prioritise, but Jack just nodded.

'Yeah, be careful Mick, I've warned you before loads of guys in here follow his lead. Remember that the walls have ears okay?'

Mickey agreed to keep his guard up, thanked Jack one last time, before leaving the laundry room in a hurry to find Ian.

It didn't take him long to find him, he was still outside in the yard by the workout area doing a pretty impressive number of pull ups and Mickey would have loved to enjoy the show but he had other things on his mind. He needed to get Gallagher away from all the other cellmates and talk to him in private, but he needed to be sly about it, fortunately the kid fucker had fucked off so at least he wasn't going to be a problem, for now. He tried to look his best impression of 'I don't give a fuck' as he sauntered over to Ian.

'Yo Gallagher, can I have a word?' Mickey said brashly, acting like everything was a hundred percent fucking fabulous even though he knew everyone in the yard was now listening in but acting like they weren't. It reminded him of the day in the shower room. He had to play this cool. For some reason, Ian looked surprised to see him address him so openly. He didn't know yet that they thought they had been hiding what was going on, instead they'd been drawing attention to themselves.

'Sup, Mick?' he answered.

'Meet ya for lunch in five? Gotta talk to you about summin.' The look of confusion on Ian's face was priceless, and if the circumstances weren't so serious he would have enjoyed it. But because they were instead he found himself praying that Ian would play along, hoping he would telepathically sense this was important.

'Sure thing, see ya there.' Ian called back.

'In a bit!' Mickey shouted, Gallagher wasn't that much of an idiot, not really.


	10. Chapter 10

When Ian finally rolled up to the canteen ten minutes later, even though Mickey was pretty damn sure he had specifically stated five. Mickey was already feeling the paranoia creeping up on him. Every time someone even looked at him he wanted to jump down their throat and ask what the fuck their problem was. Someone how he restrained himself, he was getting good at that.

'What's so urgent?' Ian asked as he joined Mickey at a table that was out of everyone's way.

'Well –'Mickey began. 'Long story short is, you know Jack right? The one who was done for armed robbery, well he and I are cool. He just told me he used to know my dad in the last lockup he was at.'

'And your point is?' Ian asked wondering why it was such a big deal, he was pretty sure nearly every criminal from the South Side probably knew Terry Milkovich.

'The point is dickhead that he knows about us. Don't worry though, I'm pretty sure he ain't gonna rat us out. Problem is, he gave me the lowdown that apparently everyone else is watching us, their trying to work out what's going on, and if they do. Well I don't need to tell ya it ain't gonna be pretty.'

Slowly as Ian caught up to speed his eyes became as suspicious of everyone around them as Mickey's was certain his probably were.

'Then what's the plan?' he asked, prepared to do whatever it took to get out of here when his sentence was over with his legs instead of in a wooden box.

'I think we gotta play it cool, act more like we're sharing a cell and are buddies instead of acting like we got somethin' to hide.'

Ian thought about it, they could do that. They'd done that at the beginning, before Mickey had gone and got fucking married which made everything a bit more serious. They'd been like best friends, best friends that just happened to fuck occasionally.

'Are you asking me to be your friends with benefits?' the redhead asked with a cheeky grin brightening up his features. Usually, Mickey would have bantered back, but instead he was annoyed. Did Ian not understand the seriousness of this?

'Does this all sound funny to you Ian? Cause right now, I don't give two fucks about any benefits. I just want us both to get outta here with all our limbs still attached.'

Ian became a bit more sombre then and the grin that had been there disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. He knew Mickey was right, they had to watch out.

'Sorry man, yeah I'm good with that plan. On the plus side though I've got some good news.' Ian said with a glint in his eye. Mickey knew that look, what mischief had Firecrotch been up to this time? So Mickey looked at him and raised one eyebrow in a question and this time it was Ian's turn.

'Come with me.' He said as his face broke into a gleeful childlike smile at whatever it was he had up his sleeve. Mickey couldn't resist, wanting too badly to know what his redhead was up to. So he got up from the table and jogged to catch up with Ian.

Eventually they got to the yard and Mickey was confused as fuck. Ian had taken them on the most fucked up route that had taken nearly ten minutes, when if you walked directly it would take you two, maximum. They were at an entrance to the yard by the side of the prison that Mickey had never really noticed before, on the outside the door was camouflaged with a grey coating of paint and it didn't have a door handle so it just sort of blended in. Seeing Mickey's puzzled expression, Ian explained.

'Before I got convicted and sent here, I looked up the blueprints of this place. No one uses this entrance to the yard anymore because none of the security cameras can reach this spot on CCTV. Some of the guards know about it though, I've seen some of them smoke here on the sly occasionally. But I think we'll be good for now.'

Mickey was impressed. He knew Gallagher was a right little smart ass when he wanted to be, but sometimes Mickey really believed he could have been a successful fucking smart ass, it just happened to be a shame he was born where he was. That's what Ian would have bought to the army, sharp mindedness he realised. There was an abundance of brave yet foolish guys out there like Mickey but there weren't as many people who could think on their feet as cleverly as Ian did. Still though there was a problem.

'Yeah okay wise guy. But we don't have anything to smoke.'

'That's where you're wrong again Milkovich.' Ian answered full of pride in his discovery. He pulled out an eighth of weed, two filters, a strip of cardboard and a lighter from his pocket.

'Where the fuck did you get that Gallagher!' Mickey asked, as excited as Ian was now, it had been so fucking long since he'd had any weed. He'd run out of his stash ages ago and wasn't prepared to do any more dodgy deals with criminals a much higher class than he was just to get high.

'Lip smuggled it in for me.' Ian said with a smile, as he slid down the wall and sat down, getting everything ready to roll a joint.

'I wish one of my brothers would do that for me.' Mickey said, as he sat down beside Ian. He watched intently as he ripped off a section of the cardboard and rolled it into a small cylinder, placed it inside the paper and then decorated it with a generous amount of weed. Mickey noticed how nimbly his fingers worked, only fiddling with the paper for a few seconds before he'd rolled the perfect joint.

'Nice work Gallagher.'

'Ready?' Ian asked, like the tease he fucking was. Actually no, he wasn't really a tease, he'd always given Mickey everything he wanted, but still they didn't have time to waste before someone caught them. It was the story of their fucking lives Mickey thought.

'Just get on with it Firecrotch.'

And so he did, they sat there for what felt like years, taking turns at smoking what even Mickey would admit was pretty good shit. The tension from the news Jack had imparted earlier slowly eased out of him and it wasn't long before his mind felt calm and his body felt so unwound he wondered if he still had any bones. Ian looked just as gone, he looked like he was away with the fairies but then again, he usually was. He'd always loved to live in his own fantasy worlds.

'_What fucking world do you live in?'_

Mickey had challenged him to answer that once because Ian had told him they didn't have anything to be ashamed of. Mickey hadn't believed him then and he still didn't now. Difference was right now a large part of his brain was drowning in a drug induced haze. He wasn't sure if he'd ever felt more peaceful in his life, he probably had but his eyes were glazed and Ian looked hot and he just wanted him in every way he could get. Right now the only world he wanted to be in was the one that had Gallagher next to him with his eyes shut and a smile on his face, riding out his high. He didn't care they were in prison with an impending fight to the death on their hands, if he died right now he'd die fucking happy.

When Ian kissed him, Mickey's heartbeat was loud in his ears and as his eyes slid shut all of his senses felt extra sensitive. The hairs on his neck stood up, goose bumps covered his arms, his dick went hard and his skin grew hot. It was slow and warm, everything that wasn't really them, but it felt like it should be. He could taste the weed on Ian's tongue and Mickey's mind wasn't functioning as he licked at his bottom lip. Ian kissed him so hard that he could feel his mouth would be swollen but he didn't care. The way Ian was kissing him felt like he needed him too.


	11. Chapter 11

When they got back to their cell that night after the guards had called lights out they both had to admit that considering they were in a prison they'd had a pretty damn good evening. Eventually despite wanting to stay buzzing forever, the high from the weed subsided and they hit the ground again with an all too realistic thud. When the bars on their cell were locked, Ian had all of his long ass limbs sprawled out on Mickey's bunk whilst the latter was sat on the floor, too many thoughts flying around his head to concentrate. The main one being he felt it was an almighty shame him and Gallagher hadn't been able to fuck earlier. They'd had to make a brisk escape when they had heard guards heading their way for an illegal smoke.

Everyone broke the fucking rules, why was it that if you were from the South Side it meant you were way more likely to get caught. It was because people who don't have anything are the ones who are watched because they have nothing to lose, it was accurate enough. What pissed Mickey off was that out there somewhere were people who were putting everything on the line to break the rules, it happened every day. Men hooked up with prostitutes even though they had a wife and a family waiting at home. Women threw away they're last twenty bucks scoring some coke instead of buying some food for their baby. Young girls who'd worked hard to be educated threw it away for a quick bunk up with the boss. Yet in the end, it was people like Ian and Mickey, the people who had fuck all were the ones always caught getting into trouble. Even though Mickey had even less to lose than Ian, which was ironic considering he used to think it was the other way around.

'Mick, who was it again that you sold the weed to?' Ian's voice came from nowhere.

'Huh? When?' Mickey asked jolted out of his inner rant.

'When I arrived here, you said you'd exchanged weed for that whiskey we drank, who was it that bought the weed?'

'Um, m'not sure.' Mickey racked his brains, it was one of the older lifers in this place. He might recognise him if he saw him again, but he couldn't place the name.

'Nah I don't know man, why?'

'Just wondering.' Ian answered, as if he was really that stupid. Mickey could sense there was more to that question than just simple curiosity and he wanted to know what Gallagher was planning. Ian had always managed to surprise him with how much he was actually organising in his head without even looking like he was thinking at all.

'Come on Gallagher, don't bullshit me.' Mickey pushed and he could see the redhead wavering, as if not knowing whether or not telling him the truth was going to bring more harm than good. Mickey needed to know though, with Gallagher's moods being so unpredictable lately if Ian had been doing more than just tracing a disused entrance to the back yard then he wanted to know about it. Ian pushed himself up from the bed and sat cross legged fiddling with his hands. He looked jumpy and Mickey couldn't quite tell whether he was nervous or excited.

'Well, I had this idea…' he started before reconsidering. It seemed like he was trying to phrase whatever he wanted to say so that Mickey wouldn't just disregard it.

'Go on.' Mickey encouraged despite feeling an alarming sense of concern over what brilliant plan Ian might have concocted this time.

'Well, I was thinking that one way to get on a few more guys side in this place would be to deal some shit.' Ian said.

'Look around asswipe, we're in a prison, what you planning on dealing, dirt from the yard?' Mickey countered wondering why Ian would even want to get involved in drugs, it usually wasn't his scene. Mickey would have considered it though, he'd been dealing his whole life, and it definitely would get a few guys on side. Maybe Ian was striking a deal with Lip or something to get more weed into this joint. When he thought about it, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Ian then jumped off Mickey's bunk and climbed up the ladder to his own, it only took him two moves, swift fucker. He grabbed his pillow and starting fumbling around inside the case. Mickey wondered what the fuck he was doing but before he had a chance to ask he pulled out a large stash of pills that Mickey recognised but wished he didn't. Valium, Lithium and Clozapine. They were Ian's bipolar meds.

'I've been tounging them at the infirmary, thought we could sell them on. I'm doing fine without them.' Ian explained.

Mickey wasn't sure whether to kick himself or rip Ian's head off. Suddenly everything was falling into place, this was the cause of the mood swings, this was why Ian hadn't seemed right. Mickey's blood was boiling and he couldn't get the words out. How could he? Mickey hadn't said anything because he had trusted him. He had trusted that he wouldn't be so fucking stupid. Ian might be the one who suffered with bipolar disorder but what he never really understood was that everyone else had suffered too. Mickey more than most, he'd stood by him through it all, until they'd got through it, and now he just wanted to chuck that all away?

'Fuck you Gallagher.' Mickey seethed. 'Just fuck you. How could you, after everything we fucking went through. Next time you're taken to that fucking infirmary you take your meds okay. Otherwise I'll rat you out to these guards. I don't give a fuck about grassing you up Ian, you need to take those meds for a fucking reason.'

'Fucking hell Mickey chill out, I'm alright without them. Fucking look at me, I'm not like how I was before, I'm out of bed, talking to you. It's not the same.'

'You're not alright. I could tell something wasn't right, but I never thought you'd be such an idiot. D'you really wanna fucking freak out again like last time? Cause I ain't sticking around to watch that again.'

'Mick -'

'No don't try and fucking bullshit me, I can't believe you. Don't talk to me anymore about it, I don't wanna hear it. Sell the pills, don't sell the pills. Take them if you fucking want, choke on them for all I care.'

Mickey got into bed and ignored Ian's attempts at talking after that. He didn't really mean it, but he felt more betrayed than ever. The idea that Ian would take such a dramatic risk for such a stupid reason frustrated him beyond belief. He'd always been a drama queen, but to risk his own fucking health. Such an idiot. Despite the fact he was fuming Mickey did calm down enough to sleep. He'd tried to think about it in a better way, at least now he could make sure Ian took the meds, he could sneakily ask one of the guards to ensure he swallowed them in the infirmary. He could stop one of Ian's breakdowns happening again. At least that was a power he didn't have last time. With that comforting thought in mind, Mickey drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Mickey awoke facing the wall with his nose nearly touching the cold concrete. He let his eyes adjust to consciousness before letting them crack open, getting used to a new day. He stretched his arms out across him until he both shoulders felt a little looser, and then cracked his knuckles just to finish off. If he was cracking joints he might as well crack em' all. He rolled over lazily and then what had just started out as another boring day of his two year sentence turned into the worst nightmare of his whole life.

Ian was slumped against the toilet they shared, his body unmoving. His eyes closed and his skin was a pale yellow white. His top covered in sick and there was still some dripping from his mouth that looked like it had dried in the time it'd been there. Mickey couldn't tell if he was breathing.

'Ian!' Mickey shouted flying out of bed to assess the damage. 'Jesus Christ, Ian what the fuck have you done.' He tried shaking him but he didn't stir and Mickey couldn't see his chest rising. He didn't know where the fuck you looked to check a pulse. Ian's skin was sticky and clammy which he hoped was a fucking good thing because at least he wasn't cold.

'Gallagher come on, fucking stay with me.' He moved Ian's body onto its side thinking he remembered that on a TV programme somewhere as the recovery position so Ian wouldn't choke on vomit.

'Guards! Help! Fucking get over here!' Mickey yelled, hoping to get the attention of someone, fucking anyone. Ian remained frighteningly still.

'What's all the noise about Milkovich?' Thomas the chief guard on duty asked sauntering over. Once he took in the scene before him he moved quickly though, calling for medics and frantically unlocking their cell to gain access. When he did, he checked for a pulse, (on the neck, Mickey remembered to bank that) but didn't answer Mickey's question as to whether he was alive.

'What has he taken?' Thomas asked urgently.

'What?' Mickey asked, panicked and confused.

'This an overdose, what has he taken Milkovich?!'

Mickey's world felt like it was collapsing around him. The meds. Fuck.

'His bipolar meds, um, there's Valium, Lithium and Clozapine. Fuck I didn't know, I didn't think he would do this.'

Before Mickey had a chance to say goodbye the medics arrived, they worked quickly as the put a long tube down Ian's throat and quickly got him on a stretcher to get him to the infirmary. They wouldn't let him go too. Mickey prayed he was alive, he must have been otherwise they wouldn't have kept working. He was locked back into his cell to be questioned later but he didn't give a fuck. He just needed Gallagher to be okay. Mickey waited for news and didn't move from the spot he had picked against the wall, facing away from where he'd found Ian. Hours passed but no one would tell him anything. All that time, as he chewed every one of his fingernails down until they bled, there was one sentence he couldn't forget as he shook with worry.

'_Sell the pills, don't sell the pills. Take them if you fucking want, choke on them for all I care.' _


	12. Chapter 12

Mickey didn't believe in God, but that didn't stop him from praying. It had been three hours but it felt more like three centuries. Time had dragged by so slowly, every single time he heard footsteps up his corridor his heart jumped, hoping that the maker of the steps had news about Ian but so far they had always just carried on up the hallway. He kept asking, but they kept saying that when they knew, so would he.

Ian wasn't the kind of guy who would do something like that. Mickey had seen him depressed, fucking hell, he'd seen him on the verge of everlasting sleep but still, at his worst he had never seen him suicidal. He couldn't get what he had seen out of his head. What if he hadn't woke up when he had? Would he have woken up a few hours, minutes or seconds later to find Ian's cold dead body stiff in the corner of the room? A shiver ran through him and he let it rack his body, not being able to control it, not even really trying to.

Then he heard footsteps again, but he didn't bother getting his hopes up, it hadn't worked so far. Why the fuck do people say no news is good news? No news was damn torture. He told himself he'd never ask for anything ever again. He'd never get jealous, he'd never hold him back, and he'd never bring him down if he could just be alive. Mickey nearly jumped out of his skin when Chief Thomas started jangling keys as he unlocked his cell.

'Chief, any news on Ian?' with a desperate tinge to his voice and Mickey didn't like the look the chief gave him as he looked directly at him with a grave look on his face.

'Please tell me he's alive.' It wasn't a question, it was an order, because the alternative wasn't possible, it couldn't be possible. He had nothing without Gallagher. He would rather be separated from him for the rest of his life, watch him make out with a thousand guys against brick walls than hear the fucking alternative.

'He's alive Milkovich, but he isn't out of the woods yet.'

The most powerful relief he had ever felt washed through Mickey as if it had replaced all the blood in his body. His heart was pumping round relief. He was alive. He would treasure that sentence for the rest of his life. He would never take Ian for granted ever again, Mickey had never really understood how precious that fucking redheaded asshole was to him, because he'd never really had to face losing him. Him going away to the army or finishing their turbulent relationship didn't compare because he'd still known he might bump into Gallagher, he'd still known he was there if he ever needed to see him. Had had never really lost him, not until a few hours ago.

'Tell me what you know.' He wanted to be updated, he wanted to know how Ian was. Was he awake? Could he see him? Did he need anything?

'He took a huge overdose Milkovich, the amount of Lithium and Valium in his system slowed his heart down so much it nearly stopped, he very nearly went into cardiac arrest. Luckily the medics were able to stabilise his heart rate and then they pumped his stomach. He's still unconscious at the moment, but they hope he will wake up in the next few hours.'

'Fuck.' Mickey breathed. Why had he been such a fucking dickhead, it was his fault this had happened, he'd driven the person he valued the most to try and take his own life. 'So he's gonna be okay yeah?'

'We hope so, yeah. Do you know how this happened Milkovich?'

Mickey weighed up the positives and negatives of telling the truth and decided for Ian's sake that the truth meant that the infirmary would always make sure he took his medication in the right doses from here on out. So for Gallagher's protection, even though he knew it was a bit late for that, he told the truth.

'The meds he took were for his bipolar disorder, he hadn't been taking them at the infirmary. I didn't know until last night otherwise I'd have made him take them. Then I said some harsh shit, shit I shouldn't have said then I woke up this morning and found him –' but Mickey couldn't finish that sentence before the guilt consumed him and his head hung in shame not wanting to looking the Chief in the eye. He couldn't relive that again, he knew it was his fault.

'I see, well the psych team will make sure he takes his medication from now on.' Chief Thomas said and Mickey's head jerked up at that.

'What d'you mean psych?! I thought he was gonna come back here. If he's gonna be alright why can't he come back here?' Mickey rushed out. He wanted Ian where he could take care of him.

'He tried to take his own life Mickey, the psych team need to work out why before we can release him back into minimum security. Otherwise it could happen again.' Chief replied gently.

'It won't happen again, I won't let it.' Mickey pushed even though he could tell it was useless.

'That didn't stop him last night Mickey, we need to ensure that Gallagher is safe until he's thinking straight again.'

That was when Mickey knew that Chief Thomas didn't have a clue. He didn't know fucking anything about Ian, not like he did. He knew that Ian never thought straight, his brain wasn't wired like everyone else's. Ian was different and that was one of the many things that Mickey liked about him. He tried to tell himself that at least if Ian was in psych he was alive and well and being looked after, but Mickey couldn't help being selfish, he wanted to look after him.

'How long is he gonna be stuck there for?' Mickey asked.

'As long as he needs to be is the answer to that I'm afraid. If he makes good progress he'll be out soon enough.' Chief answered.

'Can I see him?' it was the only resolve Mickey could think of.

'Depending on how he's doing we might be able to arrange some supervised visits.' That was a consolation at least. At least he could talk to him, apologise, try and make it right.

'Thanks, Chief.' Mickey replied solemnly. The initial relief of Ian's survival was there, but it had been dampened by guilt. Now there was going to be the aftermath to deal with and it wasn't going to be easy. Mickey knew though, that they had never been easy. Being with Ian had always been one the hardest, most complicated things he had in his life but at the same time it was also the best. He would be there for Gallagher every step of the way until he was back sharing this cell with him again, just like he always had been.

When Chief Thomas left Mickey was abandoned in his cell with only his own fucked up head for company. Apparently he was being kept in solitary confinement today, it was probably for the best. He wasn't prepared to answer any nosey ass fuckers questions about what had happened that morning.

One of the things Mickey cherished most about Ian was how for some reason the crazy fucker liked him just the way he was. He'd never asked him to change. Sure he'd asked him to control himself sometimes, but he'd never told Mickey he wasn't good enough, even though he knew that he wasn't.

Mickey had hurt Ian before. He remembered hitting Ian hard in the stomach, punching him so hard he'd hit the floor and then his foot had connected with his face so hard he'd thought he'd knocked at least a couple of teeth out. Just for good measure. He'd need Gallagher to stop running his mouth, the truth was killing him. He'd had to finish another two bottles of whiskey that night just to take the edge off.

'_D'you feel better now? D'you feel like a man?' _

'_Feel better now.'_

Mickey closed his eyes trying to block it out. He hadn't felt better, he'd felt like a coward because he had been. He wasn't going to run away this time, he would face the pain he had caused and deal with the consequences.

'Afternoon Milky, I heard that your pretty boy tried to off himself this morning? I'm not surprised really, sharing a cell with you.' Double C taunted as he appeared in front of the bars Mickey so wished weren't locked right now.

His whole body went cold, this fucker had a death wish. Mickey didn't say anything, he got up from his bunk and walked over to the bars, the long cylinders of steel the only things preventing him from cutting Double C's tongue out. Instead his arm flew through one of the gaps between the bars and he pulled him as hard as he could into the metal.

'Don't ever fucking speak about him in my fucking presence again d'you hear me you slimy little bastard.' Mickey spoke with such venom in his voice as Double C struggled in vain to get loose from his grip, his face smashed up against the bars.

'You know what I think? I think you're fucking him. Just you wait Milkovich, the second I know for sure, you're a dead man.'

Mickey loosened his grip on the scumbag in front of him knowing he had to bide his time. Double C scrambled backwards, getting himself out of Mickey's reach.

'Can't fucking wait.' He resolved.

Notes:

**I hope you are all enjoying where this is going, this has escalated way beyond what I originally expected it too! I've never written such a long fic before and I really hope that it's worth reading. It's tricky to find the right balance between Mickey having feelings, and actually expressing them! But I hope I'm doing okay. **

**I just wanted to say I'm not a doctor and have never been in prison, so there might be some issues with the detail in this story, I'm hoping you guys can shrug that off and just stick with me though. I am very welcome if anyone wanted to correct me and expand my knowledge on things I might have got wrong. **

**Please review/favourite/follow if you feel so inclined and most importantly, keep reading! It's been a pleasure to write for you all and I'm grateful to have all of you on this journey with me. Even I don't know how this is going to end yet! **


	13. Chapter 13

The first time Mickey had seen Ian in the infirmary Ian hadn't wanted him to be there. It was about a week after he'd overdosed and Mickey had kept asking the guards when he could visit. Ian however, kept refusing and when Mickey asked why he was just told that Ian wasn't up for any visitors. Mickey, knowing Gallagher like he did knew what that translated into: I don't want him to see me like this. He didn't want to have to answer the questions that Mickey needed answers to. He'd been like that before, and eventually it got to the stage where he'd just used to go and sit in bed with Ian. He wouldn't push him he would just let him know that he was there for whenever he was ready. It was frustrating as fuck, but he gave Ian the time to come to him.

So when Mickey next asked and still didn't get the response he was hoping for he asked Chief Thomas if he could pass on a letter for him. Well, a letter was a slight overstatement, he wasn't the writing type. So instead he just got a piece of scrap paper and scrawled a few words:

**No questions asked, don't hide from me. M.**

The next time he saw a guard, he was headed down to the infirmary.

What Mickey had never really noticed down at the infirmary was that patients in for psychological issues went to a special, sealed off section. There was a sign on the door asking that no sharp objects were brought in. Not that it mattered, Mickey had been asked to empty his pockets and been searched down anyway. A female guard he didn't know told him he had fifteen minutes. He nodded, took a deep breath and buzzed into the room.

Ian was in the bed closest to the window, a nurse later told him it was because he wanted to feel the sunlight. Gallagher was soppy like that, but Mickey understood to an extent. It must feel shitty to be stuck in the same bed every day, not allowed to venture even outside for some fresh air. That was real imprisonment. Ian was facing away from the door, so Mickey couldn't see his face. He tried not to make too much noise when he sat down in the chair beside Ian's bed just in case he was asleep.

'Yo Gallagher, you're still with me then?' Mickey tried, trying to install some confidence in Ian, and if he was honest, in himself by breaking the silence.

Nothing.

'I take it you got my note?' he tried again.

Still nothing.

'Okay Firecrotch, I've not got long, and I know I said no questions so I'm not going to ask anymore. But I'm here alright, and I'm not going anywhere. All I want is for you to let me know that you understand that. Any kind of signal will do. Don't need a fucking dance or anything.'

Ian still didn't reply, but he snuck a hand out of his bed covers and held it out in Mickey's direction for him to take. Which he did, without even thinking. Ian's skin at least had some colour back in it now, and he felt warm but not feverish. He felt like he was meant to. Mickey brought Ian's hand to his mouth and pressed it against his lips. It was probably one of the gentlest things he'd ever done.

'Don't give up on me okay.' One of them said. It didn't matter who because it applied to both men.

Now two weeks on Ian was making good progress. Mickey was allowed on supervised visits every other day and he looked forward to those moments with Ian. The guards had allowed them more time together because the medics could see the positive outcome Mickey was having on him. Ian was talking properly now, engaging in conversations with the nurses and he was participating well in his counselling sessions twice a week. He was back on his daily meds and seemed to Mickey more like the Ian he knew all round. Mickey knew never to act like Ian's bipolar was cured, they just managed it, and even though Ian was important to him whether he was off his rocker or not, when they did manage it, their lives were a hell of a lot easier.

Getting Ian back on the lithium made him tired though, and Mickey could see that today. Ian looked like he just wanted to knock spark out.

'How d'you feel about coming back sharing with me in a couple of days?' Mickey asked tentatively. The doctors said they were pleased with his progress, and as long as he continued the sessions with his counsellor and felt stable enough to, he was free to join the rest of the inmates again. But still, he didn't want to push him, Mickey wanted him back for Ian's own benefit, not just so he would feel better about losing him in the first place.

'Yeah I'm down for that, as long as you don't have me on suicide watch 24/7.' Ian replied, a tired smile lifting his features as if that was funny. Mickey knew he couldn't swear to that, he would be watching Ian like a hawk whether he liked it or not. Still, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

'Nah obviously, you can do what you want.' Mickey answered, as he did, the guard supervising him came into the room. Mickey had grown to like her because she always gave him an extra five minutes with Gallagher. Plus he had to give Rebecca her due, she had more balls than most being a woman trying to assert her authority in a place like this, given the chance most of the inmates would destroy her.

'Come on Milkovich, times up.' She said with clear definition in her voice and Mickey knew he wasn't going to be able to get any more time out of her. So he turned back to Gallagher, feeling more uplifted at the knowledge he would be back sharing with him any day now.

'I'll see ya soon then yeah?'

'Be back before you know it.' Ian said wholeheartedly. They hadn't really discussed the reasons as to why Ian had taken the drugs, Mickey was more focused about moving forwards than dragging Ian back down to how fucked up he'd felt that night. He'd leave that to the professionals. Mickey knew his own strengths, and he also knew that empathy wasn't one of them.

A couple of days later it was Tuesday and Gallagher was finally coming back to him on Wednesday. So as he was accompanied with Rebecca down to the infirmary for the last time he was feeling contented. He'd waited nearly a month, one more day wasn't too much hardship. Mickey's good mood was scuppered though, when they arrived another guard was already securing the entry to the psych ward. Ian was the only one in there at the moment. So who the fuck had come to see Gallagher? Rebecca explained that it was his fucking visiting time so the other random guard went in to collect this other bastard that was interrupting his precious minutes with Ian.

When Aaron walked out of the room with a relaxed smile plastered across his paedophile face Mickey nearly hit the roof.

'What the fuck you doing here?' Mickey gritted out, glad there were two guards preventing him from smashing Aaron's face against the wall and ruining it so that no teen whore would ever go near him again.

'Came to see Ian, it's good to see he's doing well.' He answered easily, not intimidated by Mickey at all. Mickey was ready to fix that whenever he damn wanted.

'He said he's coming back to the cells tomorrow.' He continued.

'Yeah. He is.' Mickey bluntly answered, not wanting him to know anything about Ian's life at all. What if Ian had told him what Mickey had said that had pushed him to take the pills?

'I'll look forward to having him around again, it's not the same without him.' Mickey knew he was pushing it, he wanted him to flip out so that he was restrained to prevent him seeing Ian. Despite it taking some serious consideration, Mickey didn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction. As far as he knew, Aaron didn't fuck guys, he wasn't anyone's bitch, so the keen interest he took in Ian was what made him so suspicious of his dodgy character. He wanted something out of Gallagher, and he was going to find out what it was. First though he needed Ian back in Cell Block D, so he let the guard accompany Aaron back without harming a hair on his twisted head.

After Rebecca had searched him and given him his usual fifteen minutes, which he knew meant twenty, Mickey pushed the door open and found Ian sitting up in bed.

'Hey Mick!' Gallagher asked, clearly happy to see him, but Mickey was still annoyed knowing someone else had been here, taken his seat next to Ian.

'I see the kiddie fiddler has been here to visit.' Mickey threw out, the bitter edge to his voice evident, not that he gave a fuck. He wanted Ian to know he was pissed.

'Yeah, he just came to see how I was doing. He's really not that bad Mick.' Ian tried. Why did he always have to be such a damn angel? Always trying to see the good side in everyone.

'I don't like him.' Mickey resisted.

'I know you don't, but give him a chance yeah? For me.' Ian knew that was his best way around Mickey, not that he'd ever admit it. He didn't answer, instead just giving Ian a glare that the redhead knew meant he'd probably won the argument unless Aaron did something that deserved a few bruises.

'How you feeling?' Mickey asked changing the subject.

'Good, I'm good. I just wanna get out of here now. I never thought I'd want to be back sharing a prison cell.' Ian said cheerfully, musing on how important the little things in life really could really be.

'Yeah well, you're like family, I've missed ya.' Mickey muttered, keeping his voice low, even though he knew no one could hear him. The risk wasn't worth taking though, he might have already made it obvious to the guards they were more than just cell mates with his overwhelming concern about Ian's welfare, that didn't mean he wanted them to know they'd screwed each other for the last 6 years or so.

'Give it a day or two and you'll be sick of me.' Ian bantered back, he was used to not making a big deal of it when Mickey showed him affection. If he paid attention to it Mickey would turn defensive in a heartbeat, it was better to pretend he hadn't even noticed, even though he always did.

Even though that was probably true, Mickey knew he'd make sure that Ian never tried any shit like that again. Ian might be putting on a brave face that everything was dandy, but that didn't mean it was. Even though he had enough things to keep an eye on, this took priority. He'd told Fiona he would do take care of Gallagher once before, this time though it would be easier because there was less ground to cover and prison took convenience away from you.

'_We'll hide the knives until he perks up.' _


	14. Chapter 14

Mickey discovered the next morning that he wasn't allowed to be in his cell when Ian returned. The guards thought he could do with a couple of hour's space. Luckily it worked out pretty well. Visiting was at midday and Mickey was going to see who he assumed could only be Mandy, so Ian would be moved then. Gallagher wasn't expected to see any visitors after what had happened. By the time he got back, things could finally get back to normal.

Strangely though, when he walked in and scanned the visiting room Mandy was nowhere to be seen.

'Milkovich, over here.' He heard a male voice call, and when he followed the direction the noise had come from he found himself faced with a visitor he hadn't expected. Lip Gallagher. He wanted to run back to the prison, having to face Ian's elder brother was not something he had prepared for when he'd woke up that morning. Did he not have enough to deal with? But he wouldn't run, he was more of a man than that. So he walked over and sat opposite Lip.

'The fuck d'you want with me?' he asked, in the least pleasant tone he could summon. Unfortunately, Lip only looked at back at him with big infuriated blue eyes.

'I thought that was obvious. I wanna know what happened to my brother.' Lip retorted.

Mickey was pretty sure that Gallagher already knew exactly what had happened, it wasn't like the prison wasn't going to have contacted Ian's family about it. So why had Lip come here to make him feel even more like a dickhead because he hadn't been able to prevent it happening?

'Tried to off himself.' Mickey answered, trying to convey as little feeling as possible.

'Don't pull the macho man shit with me Milkovich. I know what happened, I want to know why. Surely you of all people know how fucking important it is he takes his meds right.' Lip questioned.

'He'd be stashing them to sell. I didn't have a fucking clue about it.' He answered annoyed. Who was this fucker to question him? He might be able to kick himself about what had happened, doesn't mean Lip was able to. He could tell Lip believed him though because his expression softened and then his tone changed to one Mickey hated more than anger. It was sympathy.

'What happened though Mickey, Ian would never try and kill himself.' Lip asked, the worry he felt consuming all of his features. Why are people so damn weak? Mickey thought, he felt a lot of shit. Didn't mean he made it clear on his face all the damn time. He decided it was probably due to growing up in his family.

_Not all of us get to blurt out how we fucking feel every minute._

He didn't want to tell Gallagher the truth, he didn't want to say how he had pushed Ian to a limit they had never come across before. Could he lie to Lip though? He knew it was unlikely that Ian would ever tell them the details of what had happened. Still though, this was the guy who was looking out for his sister whilst he was stuck in here. Maybe he owed him something in return.

'We had an argument when I found out what he was planning. I said some harsh shit. But I never thought he would do something like that.' Mickey answered, not meeting Lip's eyes now, he knew he deserved the anger but that didn't make him feel ready to deal with it. But when his eyes flickered up Lip didn't look angry. He looked surprised.

'Didn't think you cared enough anymore to give a fuck about what Ian got up to.'

'Just cause I don't want him dead doesn't mean I give a shit.' Mickey bit back, not wanting to look like it mattered to him either way what happened to Ian.

'Ian wouldn't let us see him afterwards, but he let you see him. Why?' Lip asked, curious.

'I dunno man, maybe he didn't want you guys to see him like that, he looked like shit.' Mickey answered, playing it as cool as he could.

'Mickey when the prison told us what had happened, they also told us how you were visiting him whenever you could. Doesn't sound like you don't care to me.' Trust the guards him to have grassed him up to the whole Gallagher family, what sort of reputation would he have back in the South Side now? He might as well started wearing dresses and a tiara he sounded if he was gonna sound like such a queen.

'Well I wasn't just going to ditch him.' Mickey answered, not being able to muster anything that made him sound any tougher.

'Listen Mickey, everyone knows that Ian loves you. Doesn't matter whether you're together or not. Everyone also knows that you care about him too. So just, keep doing what you're doing okay? Keep looking out for my brother.' Mickey felt himself cave a bit then, he always had to keep forcing himself to remember that the Gallagher's, as much as he wanted them to didn't see him as the dirty thug who fucked Ian around anymore. They had seen how hard he had fought when Ian was diagnosed he had joined forces with them because if that's what Ian needed then that's what he would get.

Maybe the same strategy was what they needed now. Ian's support network might have been a little rough round the edges, but they were damn fierce as fuck.

'I will. As long as you keep looking after my sister.' Mickey bargained. If there was one thing Lip could do to help, he could promise Mickey that Mandy would be safe until he got out of here.

'You've got my word man.' Lip agreed.

That was that then, the terms were agreed and if all went well then everyone they gave a fuck about, in theory, would be safe. Mickey wasn't naïve enough to think that everything was all going to be perfect from now on. They were from the South Side, you had to be able to hold your own, but everyone knew that even though strength didn't necessarily come in numbers, they definitely helped.

Even though Mickey never really thought about family much, because his was screwed up, seeing Lip had unleased a whole can of worms he hadn't want him to open. When he'd lost Ian all those months ago, he hadn't just lost Ian. The first time Ian had walked away from him, no one had a clue they were even together. Last time, he'd lived in the Gallagher house, they had become a part of his life without even meaning to. He wasn't the kind of guy who longed for a family like Gallagher's. Hell, their family was just as fucked up as his was. But there was a weird connection between them all, you crossed one of them, and the rest jumped to defend you. Being a part of that had given Mickey's life a bit more meaning.

He'd gained a group of people who accepted him as Ian's guy, and because he was a part of Ian's life that had automatically made him a part of everyone else's even if at first they hadn't approved. When he and Gallagher had split, he had lost a real family. People who accepted you for all your flaws. He hadn't just got wasted to block out losing Ian, he'd wanted to forget that suddenly, it was him against the world again.

That was why when he walked back into his cell and found Ian waiting for him. He ran at him hard and flung his arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He really had missed him. He'd done so many months without Gallagher in this place, but now he couldn't imagine finishing his stretch without him. He didn't care any more about whether they were together, he was just grateful he was still here. As Ian hooked his long arms around him Mickey took in everything he could. The feel of the muscles on his shoulders, the heat from his skin, the faint tinge of coconut.

Mickey buried his face into Ian's neck, clinging to him in way that basically conveyed: don't ever fucking do that to me again. That was when the alarming truth struck him. Wherever Ian was, he was meant to be. It didn't matter whether it was at school, the streets of South Side, or even in this grotty prison. Wherever Ian was, that was home.


	15. Chapter 15

'I've missed you too.' Ian spoke quietly, smiling into Mickey's dark unruly hair.

'It's good to have you back man.' Mickey said, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again now he finally had Gallagher back in his daily routine. Without him he always felt like something was missing. At the beginning he hadn't even realised it was Ian, it was when he had got out of Juvie the first time and they had gone and screwed in their old baseball ground. That was when he had finally started to clock on that Ian gave him something no one else ever had. Until he had met him Mickey hadn't even known it was missing.

'I see nothing's changed around here.' Ian joked, releasing his hold on Mickey.

'Yeah, same old. Still need to watch out though, Double C is still on the lookout.' He replied turning back into the bad ass character he usually was as Ian's arms fell away from him.

Mickey filled Ian in on the last time he'd spoken to Double C the day after he'd overdosed. He told Ian everything focusing on the knowledge that he pretty much knew the truth, but was just waiting for confirmation. Talking about it made Mickey angry, he'd been so wrapped up in focusing on getting Ian better he hadn't had time to dwell on the impending threat that Double C posed.

'He's a dead man walking, I know that much.' Mickey fumed, finally finished expressing the lucrative ways he was thinking of taking out the bastard that was making their lives so much more complicated than it already was.

'Is there anything we can do?' Ian asked. Unfortunately though, nothing had really changed since Jack had initially warned them what Double C was scheming, it just seemed that the more time passed, the more imminent their battle was getting. They both had to be prepared, life in prison meant that one wrong move could cause the most deadly of altercations.

'We've just got to keep it as cool as we can. Everyone knows that you've been down in psych, so they won't be shocked to see us hanging out.'

After much deliberation between the two they decided to just keep playing the game as they were and let Double C make the first move. Nothing they could do was going to be able to change anything now. The game was on.

'What d'you wanna do for the rest of day then?' Mickey asked not willing to spend Ian's whole first day back stressed out about what other people fucking thought of them, he was past that shit.

'I promised I would go catch up with Aaron.' Ian said hesitantly, but not wanting to lie to Mickey in case he got caught red handed. There wasn't many places in a prison where you could do anything unnoticed.

'What exactly does that bastard want?' Mickey flipped, tired of hearing that prick's name in connection to Ian. As he did though his memory flashed back to something Ian had preached to him before when his jealousy had been running rife.

_Not everyone wants something from me Mick. _

Still though, Mickey knew that this game, in a lockup meant that nearly everyone wanted something from each other. Favours were owed and deals were made, and if those were contradicted, you needed eyes in the back of your head to stay alive. Something burned deep inside him telling him not to trust Aaron and he wasn't willing to take that chance, not when Ian was involved in the bargain. But Gallagher would do what he wanted anyway, the independent fucker.

'He doesn't want anything Mick, we've discussed this. Stop giving me grief about it. He's not a bad guy. There's no point in being jealous, we're in enough shit with Double C as it is, I'm not going to go off and start fucking half the prison.' Ian replied.

'Besides –'he continued 'The guys in here for falling in love with a chick, not for murdering anyone, he isn't dangerous to us.'

Mickey hated how rational Gallagher could be sometimes, he was the one that went on about feelings, but when Mickey's were evident he had a problem. A number of things in what Ian had just said made his blood boil. The worst being that Ian had made it sound as though, if they weren't under such scrutiny already he wouldn't give a fuck about screwing other people that weren't Mickey. Prick. Just cause they weren't in a Cinderella and Prince Charming relationship that didn't mean he was just a convenient bang. Not anymore anyway.

'Fine whatever man, go catch up with him. Do what you gotta do, just meet me in the whiskey place when you're done.' Mickey snapped. If Aaron was going to get time with Ian, he'd make sure the time he spent with him later would own any boring ass chit chat they got up to.

'Sounds cool. See you then.' Ian replied, and he strolled out of the cell to find the kid screwer as if he'd never even been gone.

Well he wasn't just going to fucking hang around waiting for Gallagher all day, so Mickey left the cell himself planning to hunt for Jack and see if he had any more news for him.

When Mickey turned up at their whiskey bolthole by the laundry room about two hours later Ian hadn't arrived yet. Mickey wondered how long Gallagher fucking needed to 'catch up' with Aaron, he'd only seen him yesterday, what more could they possibly have to say to each other? Because Mickey's life had been pretty shit until him and Ian had become a thing, his mind always automatically thought the worst and he wasn't able to control that. He desperately tried to shake the empty feeling in his gut as his imagination conjured up images of Ian and Aaron fucking secretly somewhere in the prison. He was seething even though he knew Ian didn't live with his mind in the gutter like that, Aaron had weaselled his way in this deep already, what more was he after? Mickey kicked the coffee table in front of him so hard it slammed into the wall.

That made him feel a bit better. There was something about lashing out that calmed him, it was comforting because it was something he had always known. It was the Milkovich way of dealing with your feelings, and there were some things you just couldn't change when they had been engrained in you from the day you were born. If you had a problem, destroy it.

'This place ain't gonna stay a secret for long if you keep smashing it up.'

Mickey whipped around to find Ian closing the door behind him with a questioning look in his eyes as to why he'd been flipping out over presumably nothing. How the fuck did he do that?

'Fuck man, did no one ever tell you it ain't cool to sneak up on people.' Mickey retorted.

'I wasn't sneaking! How d'you expect to hear shit when you're wrecking furniture?' Ian said, with a smug smile on his face because he knew he was right, as fucking usual.

'Whatever man, how was your catch up with the resident diaper sniper?' Mickey asked, really wanting and not wanting to know at all.

'Yeah it was good.' He answered casually, leaning with his back against the door.

'Is that all you're gonna tell me yeah?' Mickey challenged, Ian's vague responses didn't fill him with much confidence that Aaron wasn't someone he needed to worry about.

'For fuck sake Mick.' Ian snapped and then he moved before Mickey could connect the dots.

Ian's long legs got him across the room in two strides and when he reached Mickey he kissed him and gently pushed back until he had him on the couch. As he entwined their mouths together planning on kissing the jealousy out of his dark haired criminal Ian hooked a leg over both of Mickey's until he was straddling him. It was the same position they had been in when Ian had been grinding on him at Fairytale when Mickey had come looking for him after he'd gone AWOL from the army. This time though, Mickey didn't fight him.

Mickey's hands came up to frame Ian's face before he even had any time to comprehend what was happening. He hated that his body was so in tune to Gallagher but if Ian was going to shut him up then this was the only way he'd accept. It felt so good to have him back. Even though he'd dealt with being separated from Ian for so long before he'd been chucked in here with him, now he knew that without him he would feel empty. So he kissed back and savoured the taste of his tongue and welcomed the pressure of Gallagher's body weight pressing down on him.

Their kiss was messy and when Ian bit his bottom lip hard Mickey's hips bucked up involuntarily seeking the friction that would ease the ache in his dick that was getting worse as he grew harder. He could feel how turned on Gallagher was. Mickey hadn't seen him so fucking needy in years, but his train of thought went blank as Ian began kissing and biting down his neck. So he arched his neck back to give Ian better access but when he started grinding his dick onto him Mickey couldn't hold back the lust that had blown his pupils and had his blood rushing south.

He pushed Gallagher back hard but kept an arm wrapped round him to stop him falling as he slammed the redhead down on the couch to switch positions.

'Shit, Mickey.' Ian laughed, surprised at Mickey's swift work getting him on his back.

'Shut up, want you.' Mickey mumbled as he latched his mouth onto Gallagher's exposed hipbone and sucked hard which made Ian writhe under him. It was Mickey's turn to smile then as he kissed up towards his chest whilst pushing up Ian's top, exposing more flesh for him to get at. When he realised that it really was just getting in his fucking way he pulled at it and Ian obediently leaned forward so Mickey could get it off. As he settled back down Ian closed his eyes and relished the feeling of Mickey's warm mouth kissing up his body. They'd never used to be intimate like this and Ian couldn't help feeling proud of Mickey, he'd come so far, he'd learnt to an extent how to give affection and even sometimes, how to accept it. He was rough around the edges, but that was the way Ian had always liked him.

Even though he knew how risky what they were doing was Mickey was enjoying the reactions he was earning from Ian, so he brought his head up and began melting his mouth against Gallagher's again as he let his whole body rest on top of him. Why had their connection never gone away? Even from day one, when Ian had tried to threaten him with a crow bar and they'd ended up fucking. Mickey had known it wasn't going to be the last time. The only thing he wanted more than having Ian shirtless underneath him was to have him wearing fucking nothing.

_Done means done. _

Christ knows how many times both of them had said that to each other. They never really had been though. Mickey had never found what he had with Ian in anyone else and he hoped Gallagher never had either. He kissed Ian harder and ran a rough hand down his body promising that he never would.

'What the fuck is going on?' someone exclaimed from across the room. It was a voice they wished they didn't recognise. Both Mickey and Ian jolted apart, eyes wide looking for the culprit of who had so rudely interrupted them. Mickey felt his whole body fill with dread as he looked back into the shocked eyes staring at them from the door.

It was Aaron.


	16. Chapter 16

Mickey was torn between preaching the best bullshit explanation he could think of and pulling Aaron into the room and stapling his mouth shut as he got up from the couch and retreated to the other corner of the room, as if putting some distance between him and Gallagher would convince Aaron he had imagined what he'd seen. Before he could make up his wretched mind though Ian spoke first.

'Fuck, Aaron. This isn't what it looks like.' Gallagher rushed out and Mickey couldn't pretend that he wasn't slightly annoyed that Ian was trying to convince him that they weren't about to fuck each other's brains out. Luckily though, he didn't have time to dwell on it, they needed Aaron to keep his mouth shut if they were gonna get out of there alive.

A small smirk had appeared on Aaron's face and Mickey could tell that he had them exactly where he'd wanted.

'What the hell is it then?' Aaron asked, even though he clearly already knew the answer.

Mickey fumed silently in the corner, wanting to take the fucker out so badly he didn't trust himself to speak. Besides if Ian wanted to pretend they weren't a thing then he would let him get them out of this one, Mickey only spoke with his fists. Gallagher looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging for help in backing him up on this one, but Mickey didn't know what to say. What explanation could they possibly give for being about to get it on in secret in the middle of a fucking lock up?

'He's your fucking friend Gallagher, tell him what you want.' Mickey stated, dropping Ian right in it, because it was fucking true. Ian and Aaron had been hanging out for weeks, if he really was the ally that Ian had kept preaching he was, surely he would keep their secret. He'd been in here long enough to know the consequences of what would happen if he opened his fat mouth. Mickey could see Ian deliberating, wondering whether Aaron would keep the truth to himself and also giving himself extra time to see if a wonderfully bright idea came to him that would get them out of this mess. In the end though as Aaron looked between the two of them clearly waiting for an answer, Ian didn't have any choice and Mickey could see what he was going to do before he'd even spoken.

'Get in here and shut the fucking door.' Mickey barked as Gallagher shrugged his shirt back on and Aaron did as he was told, obviously not fucking going anywhere until he got the answers he was waiting for.

'Look Aaron, Mickey and I, we used to have a thing outside of this place. When I got chucked in here we were roomed together, neither of us knew it was gonna happen. Then we ended up hooking up again because, I don't know. Old habits die hard I guess.' Ian explained.

Used to have a thing? Old habits die hard? Mickey's mind was deliberating itself now, over which of these pricks he wanted to kill first. He knew Gallagher was choosing his words as carefully as he could to make it seem like they weren't a big deal, but that didn't stop Mickey feeling like a worthless fuck. He knew that Gallagher was struggling being in Mickey's company so much because when he had finished it all those months ago he'd worked as hard as he could to put Mickey in the past. Ian really was a naïve dickhead if he'd thought that was going to be easy. In combination with his bipolar, Mickey was trying to be considerate that Ian's head was screwed up. Still though, a little bit of damn consistency wasn't that much to ask for.

'You two used to be together?' Aaron asked, seemingly loving the fact he'd stumbled across all of this top secret information.

'Yeah.' Ian answered and that made Mickey feel a bit better, at least Ian wasn't going to deny that they had a pretty impressive history.

'Like together together?' Aaron pushed. What did he fucking want? The full details of their whole relationship? Well he was fucking lucky they weren't going anywhere any time soon in this place then.

'Yes.' Ian sighed.

Mickey could see Aaron's brain working as he added two and two together. He knew now why they had been creeping around and ignoring each other, why Mickey was always on the defensive with him, why a dark haired criminal who couldn't give two fucks about anything spent all the time he could with Ian when he'd been in the infirmary. He hated the fact there was nothing he could do to stop the smug look that was plastered on Aaron's face as if he had known all along.

'Does anyone else know about you two?' Aaron wondered aloud.

'No.' Mickey ground out. He obviously knew that Jack was the only other person that actually knew, but if this got out that would put him in the firing line for not exposing Mickey as a fag from day one. He wasn't a grass, there was no way he'd betray someone who'd looked out for him up until now. Plus Double C had his suspicions, but that was the last thing he wanted Aaron to know. He saw Ian glance at him questioningly out the corner of his eye, but he didn't say anything.

'So let me get this straight. If you'll pardon the pun.' Aaron joked, which made Mickey feel like cutting him into pieces with a blunt knife. 'You two used to be boyfriends, then you broke up. Milkovich got thrown in here, and when you got sentenced you had to share with him. What a coincidence.'

Aaron's description of events and conceited tone had Mickey's blood boiling.

'– And now you're back together?'

'No.' Ian answered before Mickey could even think about what he and Ian were right now. He couldn't help wondering why Gallagher was so against them being a couple again. Obviously he understood why he wouldn't want to tell Aaron if they were, but he knew that Ian really meant that.

'That's not what it looks like.' Aaron retorted.

'You telling me that if you suddenly had to spend day in and day out with your ex that you wouldn't be tempted?' Ian shot back and Mickey couldn't help but mentally wince at Gallagher's use of the word ex. About ten minutes ago they would have been fucking right now, that didn't sound like history to Mickey, it sounded pretty fucking present.

It seemed that Ian had hit a nerve though, and Mickey couldn't be angry at that. Then he remembered that Aaron's ex was the young chick who he claimed to love even though she wasn't at an age to consent. Creep. Aaron's reaction seemed more genuine than anything else Mickey had ever seen him do though, his features softened as if Ian was right. If his ex was in here he'd have her in any and every way that he could too.

'If anyone else catches you two at it you're gonna be fucked.' Aaron said as he pulled himself together, clearing the fucked up thoughts of a prepubescent girl from his twisted mind.

'Well we'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone.' Ian pleaded, asking for the proof that Aaron really was the good guy he had believed he was.

'Don't worry I'll keep your little secret.' Aaron replied, and Mickey felt his body relax for the first time since they'd been interrupted, praying that Aaron would stick to his word.

'As long as you blow me at the click of my fingers.' he added, laughing as he winked at Ian.

That's it, Mickey thought. He's a fucking dead man.

'Mickey, don't.' he heard Ian warn as he bolted across the room. Too fucking late. He gripped Aaron by his top and shoved him hard back against the door. Adrenaline and anger rushed round his system, taking hold of him as he lost control of the restraint he held on to for so long. It took everything he had left not to smash his fist into Aaron's face and shut his mouth permanently.

'Listen here you little prick. You'll keep your jerkoff molesting mouth shut d'you hear me? You'll fucking leave Gallagher alone and if anyone finds out about what you know. I swear to God you're a dead man. Are we understood?' Mickey fumed.

Aaron looked back at him with cold eyes, he didn't even bother struggling against Mickey's grip on him which infuriated him even more. He wanted Aaron scared and promising silence, but he didn't. He had some fucking balls, Mickey had to give him that.

'Don't worry Milkovich. He's all yours.' Aaron spat at him. Mickey tightened his grip, ready to tear Aaron's tongue out, but before he could Ian was behind him placing one of his strong hands possessively on his shoulder.

'Mickey enough. Aaron won't say anything, he's not a grass. Let him go.' Ian persuaded, looking to Aaron for confirmation which he got in the form of a stiff nod.

Mickey wanted to believe Gallagher's intuition on this guy wasn't wrong, but he didn't trust him as far as he could throw him. He knew Ian was being rational, that if he fucked Aaron up he wouldn't have any reason to keep quiet. The whole prison would know he was a fag by lights out and he and Ian would be dead men by morning. Plus he also knew that Aaron probably didn't have anything left to lose, his allegiance with Ian was all that they had to work with. So with difficulty, he released Aaron and backed off. Turning to his redhead he shrugged his hand off his shoulder, glared at him and spoke.

'Pray you've got this right Gallagher.'


	17. Chapter 17

When Aaron finally fucked off and left Mickey and Ian to it the tension he had brought remained in the air. Both of their brains were working overtime, trying to convince themselves that maybe, just maybe they might have got away with that one.

'Well we're fucked.' Mickey threw out there, pretty sure that was an accurate summary of what had just happened. He knew that Aaron definitely wasn't someone he could rely on, the only shot they had was that hopefully the friendship he'd built with Gallagher meant enough to him to keep him and therefore Mickey alive.

'He won't say anything, he hasn't got any reason to.' Ian muttered back, sounding like he was trying to persuade himself as much as he was Mickey. Ian was too trusting, he'd never even been to Juvie, let alone a real lockup before, he didn't understand that people didn't need a reason to out you, if they did they automatically received credit from other inmates for helping to expose a couple of legit queers. But Mickey could feel Ian's concern as he began biting at his nails and running his hands through his hair. He didn't want Ian panicked if he could possibly help it. It wasn't some waste of space like Frank they were dealing with this time, the people in here were dangerous and Ian knew that.

'There's nothing we can do now, just gotta hope you're not wrong.' Mickey replied, trying to reassure them both.

'Don't try and blame all this shit on me, you're lucky it was Aaron of all people that found us, otherwise we'd already be dead.' Ian said, disgruntled by Mickey's constant attempts at making it sound like if they were exposed to the whole fucking prison it was all his fault.

'Fuck off man, I ain't blaming it on you. I'm just saying I don't trust him. You're the one that preaches that he's some fucking saint. The only reason he's still got his tongue in his head is because I trust you.' Mickey replied angrily, tired of Gallagher's constant frustration with him.

'Yeah well you didn't help things by getting all Pulp Fiction on him, that isn't how you keep people on side Mick.' Ian accused.

'Screw you Gallagher, was I supposed to just listen to him offer you a free blow whenever you want and say fuck all?' Mickey fought back.

'You know what Ian why don't you just clear a few fucking things up for me, cause I know there's somethin' here. But did you mean all that shit about us not being together? Cause' if you do then tell me so I know where I fucking stand. I'm not gonna die in this place over someone who ain't worth it.' Mickey continued, growing more annoyed at Ian's inability to make his mind up about what it was he fucking wanted.

Ian softened around the edges then, the tension left him as he breathed out in a sigh, eyes flickering away from Mickey's as he thought about his response. When he spoke, he still wouldn't meet Mickey's eyes.

'I'm always gonna want you Mick, this place doesn't make that easy. Doesn't mean I think we would work any better than we used to if we did actually get out of here.'

Mickey didn't know how to feel about that. He knew where Ian was coming from, but as a person he was so fiercely loyal that even though their screwed up relationship wasn't easy, he couldn't picture a future with anyone else but Gallagher. Sometimes though, it had felt like instead of supporting each other, they were destroying each other. But Mickey had felt destroyed in the best way though, and if he had to fucking feel, he would rather feel fucked up by Ian than not have him at all.

'We might not work like some normal fairy tale couple, doesn't mean we're wrong.' Mickey said assertively and he believed that. If he had ever been able to fight how he felt about Gallagher, he'd have been doing it right from the beginning. He'd still be fucking girls, he'd still be in the closet and he probably wouldn't have any connection to the redhead. But Mickey couldn't fight how he'd felt then when they weren't even a thing, he knew that he definitely couldn't now.

Gallagher was overthinking it like he always did, he was comparing them to all the couples that they were never going to be anything like. They might not be conventional, but they brought out the best and the worst in each other out in equal measures. That delicate equation ensured they had one hell of a rollercoaster of a relationship, but surely that was better than being fucking boring. He had never felt how Ian made him feel when they fucked with anyone else.

_I know what he felt with me. You can't fake that. _

That was the one flashback that Ian couldn't get out of his head, he knew that he had been right that day and even now Mickey still couldn't fake it with him. What he hated more than anything was that neither could he. He knew how much Mickey loved him, even though he wouldn't ever say it, but their dynamic was exhausting, and it had them in dangerous territory.

'I just want an easy fucking life. Boyfriend, house, hell maybe even kids one day. You can't give me that. It's impossible. ' Ian answered, finally looking at him properly.

Mickey thought about that, there was a time when he would have agreed, he wouldn't have even considered any of that shit with Ian. They weren't a normal couple. Mickey hadn't even thought they would ever be anything more than a casual hook up until things had gradually got more serious between them because Ian was a persistent fucker. But now things felt a little different, he definitely wasn't sure about kids. But boyfriend? House? Maybe he could do that. Nearly losing Ian had changed his perspective, he would give Gallagher pretty much anything he fucking wanted as long as he didn't have to lose him again. For now though, things like that were irrelevant.

_Don't fucking tell me what's impossible. _

'Don't tell me what I can and can't do Gallagher.' Mickey replied, trying to ease the doubts from Ian's clouded mind. 'Besides, we've got bigger problems for now. All I know is if we are gonna have to fight this battle I'd rather fucking do it together.'

It was Mickey's turn to avoid Gallagher's gaze then, a few years ago he'd never of dreamed of blurting out such raw truth. He'd have pretended he wanted to fight on his own, he still would if he had to, but that didn't mean he would choose it anymore. If he was going to die in here, he wanted to go down in a blaze of fucking glory, with Gallagher next to him. That was the way it had always been.

'Me too.' Ian replied, a wry smile appearing on his face. Then he got up from the couch and pushed Mickey back against the door that a few minutes ago he'd slammed Aaron into.

'Now where the fuck were we.' Ian rasped huskily into his ear as he kissed up Mickey's neck.

'Gallagher, we can't, can't risk it.' Mickey stuttered out, his breath being stolen from him as Ian's talented mouth assaulted his skin.

'Better make it quick then.' Ian replied smiling into him.

What could Mickey do? He was with Gallagher which meant that every sense of fucking reason in his mind was blurred as per usual because Ian was so far up his list of priorities even dying didn't seem to matter if they were caught. As Ian dropped to his knees and pulled on his waistband to gain access to his hardening dick his resolve failed him instantly. As long as they were together, nothing seemed as fucking scary as it should have done.

Ian didn't fuck around. He quickly released Mickey's dick from the restrains of his clothes and licked a long line up his shaft, eventually settling with the head in his mouth, sucking gently on Mickey's swollen skin. If they didn't have long left to enjoy their fucking chemistry, they might as well make the most of it. They'd screwed each other for so long, they knew exactly what the other liked. That meant giving Mickey a blow job came more naturally to Ian than most things.

'Fuck, Gallagher.' Rattled Mickey from above him.

Mickey had let his whole body weight rest against the door, his toned thighs the only thing keeping him upright and stable as Ian sucked on his dick. Every time a wave of pleasure hit him all of his joints went shaky, but a warning in the back of his mind kept him rationally placed strategically against the door, preventing another interruption. So he used one hand to grip Ian's hair and placed the other against the wall to keep his balance as he pushed his hips forward, urging the redhead to take him deeper.

Ian complied without any faltering, he took the whole of Mickey's dick in his mouth and fought his own gag reflex, swallowing him. Mickey's vision went white because he could feel he was close, the orgasm building so quickly because it had been too fucking long since he'd had Ian on his dick. Ian was sucking so fucking hard, using his hand to jerk Mickey off in unison when his throat couldn't take deep throating anymore.

'Gonna come, Firecrotch.' Mickey stammered, suddenly feeling like he couldn't fight his physical need to come over the desperation of wanting this feeling to last. As he felt Ian hum around him in agreement as he continued blowing his dick Mickey lost it. His head fell back without permission and he held Ian's hair tighter, trying to ground himself as his orgasm took over. Ian didn't stop as he came, sucking him dry and swallowing his release, jacking Mickey for everything he had.

After Ian finally popped his mouth off him, when he could finally see straight, Mickey couldn't control his shaking jelly legs anymore. He slid down the door and hit the floor hard, glad and grateful simultaneously to have something sturdy underneath him. He looked at Ian who was watching him with contented eyes, happy with his work at reducing Mickey into a bundle of nerves.

_Fuck man that was good. I've missed ya._


	18. Chapter 18

The next day when Mickey awoke, sprawled across his bunk, back aching from the hard mattress for a few blessed seconds he was completely oblivious to the eventful altercation he and Ian had had the previous day. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Mickey's distrust of Aaron was more infuriating than his distrust for everyone else because the majority of the scum in this place at least were upfront about being dangerous jerkoffs. Whereas Aaron played the game like he was an innocent good guy who had been convicted of a crime of passion. As he remembered the sick feeling in his gut returned and the tension that sleep had drained from his body took hold of his muscles again. More and more people were finding out, he knew it wasn't going to be long now.

Ian was already up, sitting cross legged in the corner of the room scribbling in a diary with the crayons that he'd been allowed to borrow from the psych ward. When his bipolar was at its worse Mickey had realised that even though Ian didn't want to talk to anyone, he would draw and write down everything that was running through his head and it kept him calm. It was his way expressing himself without letting everything overcome him and it also kept him company because it seemed that he thought no one else could understand. That was true, but they tried to anyway.

They hadn't spoken about the fact that Aaron knew about them, everything they had needed to say had already been said. There was nothing to gain from arguing about it because they couldn't change it. All they could do now was have each other's backs if Aaron did grass them up. Mickey hoped that Ian had been a good judge of character this time, and even though he often was, sometimes he tried too hard to cling to what was good in someone. Hell, that had been the only reason he'd stuck with Mickey in the beginning.

'Rise and shine, Cinderella.' Ian murmured, smiling down at whatever he was writing, knowing Mickey was awake without even needing to look at him. The echoed sentiment reminded them both of when Mickey had said the same thing to Ian what seemed like forever ago. That was something they were both good at, they never forgot things each other said or did. Sometimes they ignored them or pretended that they weren't significant but nothing was ever truly forgotten. Mickey couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at his mouth because he'd wondered recently whether Gallagher remembered how they used to be, clearly he hadn't forgotten the details.

'Ain't no fucking Cinderella.' Mickey replied with no malice in his voice, stretching out on the bed trying to ease the ache in his muscles that the shit mattress caused every fucking morning.

'What chu' scribbling?' Mickey asked as his eyes flickered over to Ian who seemed so engrossed in whatever he was scrawling. Mickey hadn't seen him draw for a while, he forgot how Ian literally used to make the paper look like his mind.

'Coming up with inventive ways to kill anyone who tries to cross us.' Ian answered so nonchalantly Mickey would have laughed if he wasn't intrigued as to what his creative mind had thought of. Anywhere else in the world thinking of ways to murder someone would have been psychotic, where they were from it was standard behaviour. Plus they both knew every time they hooked up in place they were risking death, might as well be inventive if they had to take anyone out.

'Oh yeah? What you got?' Mickey enquired.

Ian looked up at him for the first time since he'd woken up, his mind considering whether he wanted to give Mickey any ideas was going to be a benefit or a hinderance during the rest of their stretches.

'Well, so far I've got: Hanging, slashing, poison, strangle, drowning, stabbing, crushing, beating, burning and choking. But I'm pretty sure I'm missing out a few big ones.' Ian said, racking his brains trying to remember more ways of stopping a heart.

'Nice work, just one thing though. Don't show that diary to your councillor later yeah?' Mickey joked, wondering why Ian was suddenly so worried about how they would kill someone. Besides even if they did they would have to be clever about it, there was a big fucking difference between being in this place for a couple of years to being handed a life sentence. Even Mickey doubted he would see the point in life if all it meant was being in a lockup.

'I won't.' Ian replied, a teeth flashing grin plastered on his face. Sometimes their lives were so fucking weird. Mickey knew though that if it ever did come to that it would be him that would have to do most of the work, Ian would help sure, but he had more humanity than Mickey in shedloads and he valued life much more. Mickey wouldn't think twice about taking out some bastard who deserved it, but Ian would be thinking about other shit, like the impact on the guy's family and all that emotional stuff.

'I'ma head to the laundry room in a few.' Mickey told Ian as he swung his legs out of bed and headed to the sink to brush his teeth, kicking Ian lightly to get him out of the way.

'You wanna come?' Mickey spat out, his mouth full of toothpaste and as Ian looked up him at from the floor he couldn't help but remember how good Ian had looked in a pretty similar position yesterday, sucking on his dick.

'Yeah alright, I'll join you in about half an hour, gotta head to the infirmary to take my meds first.' Ian answered.

'Sure thing man, in a bit.' Mickey replied, spitting out the minty liquid that had accumulated in his mouth. Then he left their cell wiping his wet lips on his arm, knowing he would only be waiting for Ian to join him later.

He found that the laundry room wasn't really working its usual magic on him as he waited for Ian. The humming sound of the machines was soothing, but not quite soothing enough to ease the tension of the knowledge that someone he trusted least in the prison now knew he was a fag, combined with the fact he wanted Ian to fuck him so hard he wouldn't remember his own name. It had been so fucking long.

He was facing away from the door because it felt easier that way, he tried to focus on the sound of machines spinning instead of imagining the feeling of Ian inside him, going at him rough because that was how he really liked it. That edge between pain and pleasure was what they had always been about and they hadn't had it in ages. He thought about Ian's hand reaching around him to jack his dick whilst the other fisted tight in his hair, pushing his head down. He could feel himself getting hard just thinking about it and when he heard the door click open, he felt more relief than anything he'd been getting from the laundry room.

He saw Gallagher's frame appear as the door opened and smiled instantly.

'Hey man –' Mickey started, but he quickly stopped. Something was wrong. Ian's eyes were wide in a warning and his body was tense, walking rigidly into the room. His front teeth were biting hard at his bottom lip, trying to inflict pain upon himself to control the fear that had hold of him.

Mickey didn't say anything, he only watched as dread took hold of him too, but he harnessed it to accompany the adrenaline that was rushing through his body as the reason for Ian's horror became apparent. Behind him Double C followed, entering the room with a smirk on his face and his eyes twinkling with anticipation. It took Mickey a few seconds to work out what it was that he was holding to Ian's back. It was long sharp shiv that he was using to guide Ian to the centre of the room.

Ian's eyes locked on his, pleading for help, begging for him to have a plan. Mickey had nothing except what he'd always had: anger, fear and loyalty. He didn't know if it was going to be enough this time, but he knew the combination of those three things had made him an animal before. He hoped he could be just as lethal this time.

Behind Double C follow three of his henchmen, three of his clearly most loyal spies to accompany him in this battle. Mickey wasn't sure he could take out all of them, but god knows he and Ian would put up a fight and at least try for two. Double C taking priority over who needed to die first. When the face of the third man became clear as he stepped in through the door and closed it behind him Mickey's rage intensified and he truly believed that he could kill all of them without a thought. The recognition made him murderous because that face had betrayed someone he cared about.

Yet again, it was Aaron.


	19. Chapter 19

Mickey felt sick because now everything was falling into place like the most twisted jigsaw puzzle. This was why Aaron had befriended Ian despite them having nothing in common, this was why he'd kept an eye on Ian when he was in the psych unit and this was why he had just so happened to stumble across the pair when they had been getting hot and heavy in the whiskey room. They had given him the perfect ammo, all he'd had to do was wait and be patient.

Aaron had been sniffing around for months and Mickey had let Ian's kind heart glaze his judgement. He had always known he couldn't be trusted, there had always been something that wasn't quite right there. Mickey had to admit though, even he hadn't thought that Aaron was spying under the orders of Double C. He should have known better than to think he would have known if that was the case, everybody in this lock up had an undercover motive. Suddenly Jack's words made more sense than ever. _Remember that the walls have ears_.

Adrenaline took over his body as he wondered how the fuck they were going to get out of this one. He had no weapons on him, neither, he doubted did Ian. All they had was what they'd always had, each other and years of pent up anger and resentment.

'I did warn you Milkovich, I warned you what would happen if I got any proof that you were fucking Loverboy here. Now look what's happened, you've handed this to me on a plate. Should have been more careful where you tried to get your rocks off.' Double C hissed, still holding the blade to the small of Ian's back. The bastard looked between them, enjoying making them squirm as his face shined with glee at the perfect opportunity that had unfolded for him. Aaron had found him straight after he'd caught the two queers about to go at it and told him everything they had disclosed during their altercation. It didn't take long for them to organise their magnificent plan. The Gallagher kid had been so easy to trap.

'Your problems with me Double C, let him go.' Mickey stated, finding his voice from somewhere. He could see out of the corner of his eye the look that Ian gave him in retaliation. This 'as if' and 'don't you dare' expression that basically said 'we stick together.' Not that Mickey gave a shit, if there was the slimmest chance he could get Ian out of here alive he would make sure he took it. Double C didn't even dignify his words with an answer.

'I bet you're the one that takes it Milkovich. He gives it to you good doesn't he? Aaron told me all about you two queers, how you've fucked for years.' he sleazed, digging the shiv deeper into Ian's back but refraining from penetrating skin. He wanted to enjoy this.

Mickey's body flushed, he knew he wasn't no bitch, but even he didn't understand why he liked to bottom. He wouldn't do it with anyone else. Only Ian, he'd only ever trusted Ian enough. He secretly enjoyed just for a short while to give someone else the control he always possessed, to someone he knew wouldn't abuse or take advantage of it. It was then that it occurred to him that if he was going to die here in a few minutes, the one thing he wouldn't do was pretend that the only person who'd ever really been important, wasn't just that. He'd go down in a blaze of glory, and he'd die being real.

'Gives it to me so good man, I fucking love it.' He'd faced his dad, he could face this fucker.

Ian's eyes went wide as Double C's smirk fell from his face and consequently contorted into an evil glare. Slowly he raised his arm and looped it around Ian's neck, placing the shiv against the delicate skin encasing his throat. His henchmen tensed, ready for the oncoming onslaught, knuckles flexing, primed to pounce. But Mickey wasn't finished yet and he turned his attention to Aaron.

'He fucking trusted you.' Mickey spat at the perverted child abusing snake. Aaron disgusted him more than anyone the room. It was one thing to be a murderer, a crack dealer, someone who was honest about the fact they were scum. It was a whole other realm of the gutter they all lived in to be a child fucker and a grass who was disloyal to their friends. Especially if said friends just so happened to be important to Mickey.

'He was so easy.' Aaron remarked back, his voice calm, seemingly contented at his success in betraying Gallagher.

Mickey's self-control snapped and he timed everything fucking perfectly. He knew Ian knew what he did, that the only way to survive now was to put up the best fight that they could. With unmeasurable speed, he gave Ian his cue and nodded. Within a second he was on Aaron, smashing his fist so hard into his face the skin on his knuckles broke immediately. He was only just aware of Ian on the other side of the room, who'd knocked the shiv out of Double C's hand and had kicked him in the nuts.

One of the other henchmen jumped into action and gave Mickey a swift uppercut that threw his head back with almighty force. Mickey was protected by a rage that was blazing like fire and he barely felt it, even as blood started to gush from his mouth. With Aaron temporarily incapacitated and looking pretty fucking purple underneath him Mickey threw himself at the other guy, knocking him to the floor. He looked like a big guy because he was carrying weight, but it wasn't muscle and that gave Mickey an unexpected advantage.

Suddenly though the guy kicked out hard, smashing his foot into Mickey's ankle and fucking hell because he did feel that. He felt the joint rip out of its socket and an all-consuming pain flood through him, knocking him down hard. Automatically he clutched on his ankle, gaining a quick glimpse of the struggle going on between Ian and Double C. He felt an overwhelming urge to protect him, but before he had the chance to regain his balance the dickhead who'd knocked out his ankle out was on him. The extra weight winded him, and he took a few hard punches to the stomach before lashing out hard, breaking the guys jaw. He moved quickly taking his chance whilst he was still disorientated, getting back on his feet ready for revenge.

Just about dealing with the pain running through his foot Mickey used the good one to kick the fucker in the face repeatedly, until his eyes were swollen shut and blood was gushing from a gaping wound in his head. Mickey threw a couple more kicks in for luck, his anger not subsiding towards him until he saw a couple of his pearly whites fly out of his mouth. When Aaron's hand was suddenly gripping his fucked up ankle, trying to drag him to the floor and almighty bolt of pain ran through him. Mickey furiously pulled his foot from his clasp and smashed it down on top of the claw, feeling knuckles break and bones snap. He wasn't even sure whose bones they were but there was no way he was going to let the pain get the better of him. He was savage. Mickey had once been corrected that a hand only had fourteen knuckles, and he hoped every single one of Aaron's was broken. Aaron swiftly pulled his arm back in crying out in pain. That's what you fucking get, Mickey thought wildly.

Mickey spun around looking for his next victim. He knew there were still three other men in the room, one other henchman, Double C and Ian. His rage pulsed as he took in the other side of the anarchy that had erupted, he wasn't done yet. He wanted to teach them all a fucking lesson but he'd expected Ian to have beaten him to it. He saw the unnamed henchman splayed on the floor, blood pooling on around his head and Mickey quickly concluded he wasn't going to be a problem. It was the rest of the scene before him that had his blood running cold and the fire in him turning to ice. Only then did he notice that the noise that had broken out initially had quietened to an eerie silence.

Double C was sat upright against the couch, his head lolling back as he fought unconsciousness. There were bleeding scratch marks down his face and a deep open wound along his right arm that was oozing thick blood and Mickey was sure he could see bone amongst all the cartilage. His shiv was laying equidistant between all three men, Mickey could only assume that Gallagher had got there first. His left eye was already turning black and although Mickey wasn't a fucking expert his legs were at pretty dodgy inhuman angles. When he turned to Ian, ready to congratulate him on his handiwork, it took him a second to properly understand that something wasn't right.

Ian was laid out on the floor on his back, his chest rasping for breath as his ribcage quickly heaved up and down. He was staring at the ceiling like he was trying to focus as the shock took over him. Mickey's eyes assessed him quickly looking for the damage, there was a small cut above his right eye. Nothing. His bottom lip had split. Nothing. It was then that his eyes were dragged down to the blood that was pooling through Ian's shirt where Ian was clutching at his side. The blood was spreading fast.

'Gallagher!' Mickey shot as his suddenly jumped into action. He ran to his side forgetting about the pain in his ankle and got down on his knee's next to him. Tugging at the shirt he tried to get to the wound, but Ian applied more pressure, refusing Mickey access.

'Ian, let me fucking see.' Mickey warned. For the first time since the fight had broken out Ian glanced up at Mickey, still trying to suck in air. He quickly nodded once, then found his spot back on the ceiling. Mickey quickly moved the material blocking his way and could just about make out the damage. There was one deep stab wound in Ian side, and without the pressure he'd been applying, precious red blood just pumped out of Ian. Mickey glanced up at him, seeing his face getting paler and paler.

'What happened?'

'He got hold of the shiv whilst I was taking out the other one, stabbed me before I could stop him. Wrestled it back though, and nearly cut his arm off.' He wheezed in reply, a faint smile tinging his mouth as he confirmed to himself that he'd got the job done.

Mickey loved and hate the fact that Ian never gave up, why hadn't he fucking called him for back up? Why had he not asked for help? Mickey knew why. Where they came from you accepted your fate, as long as you didn't give up you would always be respected. God knows Mickey respected him, he was so fucking proud of him.

'Is it that bad?' Ian rasped out, sensing something in the look that had taken over Mickey's features. He took his shirt off and balled it in his hands placing the fabric back at the wound, trying to prevent any more blood loss.

'You're gonna be fucking fine, hold this down. Hard.' Mickey replied gruffly, taking Ian's hand to help him. Ian was white, and he didn't have the energy to apply the pressure that was needed to stop blood so easily saturating the material. His hand fell to the floor and even though he tried, his eyes kept falling closed. He would just sleep, just for a little while. He'd just rest his eyes and find some energy.

'Gallagher! Don't you dare fucking die on me, fucking wake up!' Mickey said trying to cease the blood oozing from Ian's body. Fear paralysed him, he'd promised they would never be here again. Why was it never him? He shook Ian's shoulder hard, trying to get Ian to regain consciousness.

'Please Firecrotch.' Mickey begged.

'Please wake up.'

Ian's eyes cracked open, and he gazed at Mickey who was furiously blinking back the tears that were building in his own. With great effort he moved his bloody hand over the top of Mickey's that was still pushing down hard on the stab wound. Ian couldn't really even feel the pain anymore as the heavy darkness that was looming over him took over.

'Mickey –' he whispered. 'You know that I…'

'Yeah I do know but don't fucking say it. I've told you before. Don't you ever say goodbye to me.' Mickey could feel himself breaking. His shirt was drenched in blood now, and he didn't know what to do. He was literally watching the life drain out of Ian and the salt water in his eyes he'd been fighting back so angrily fell down his cheeks as he felt Ian go limp under him and the world go black.

**Notes:**

**Please forgive me my wonderful readers, I've recently started a new full time job and haven't had much time to write. This story will continue, I promise I have a lot of plans for both of our boys. Thank you to all of you who have kept reading until this point. Your thoughts on my work are so important to me. Please stick with me and keep following this journey! **


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